I almost forgot.
So I'm having lunch with this group from work and a woman I used to work with from another team, and we're talking about the local eateries, and I mention... "hey, yeah, I try not to go to [large chain corporate restaurant] too often. I'm just burned out on it."
"I won't go to [large chain corporate restaurant] either," says Michelle.
"Sick of their food?"
"No. I'll tell you when we finish eating."
So i assume it's a barf story, or a story about something she found in someone's plate, or something fun like that.
"No," she says. "My husband went to the bathroom, and he came back white as a sheet. And I asked him what the problem was. And he said he found a dead guy in the bathroom."
"A dead guy. Apparently the guy had shot himself in the head just before my husband walked in. So he saw.. you know..."
"Oh my God."
"So we had to sit there while they pretended to help the dead guy, who was pretty much dead... and then we watched him get carried out on a gurney."
"You have to wonder," my co-worker said, "How he got the cat in there."
We all stared at her quizzically.
"It wasn't a cat," Octavio offered. "It was a guy."
"Oh, well, that makes more sense," she nodded. "I thought you said it was a cat in the bathroom, and I couldn't figure out how you would get a cat into a [large chain corporate restaurant]."
"And so we're walking out the door," Michelle continued. "And the hostess is still asking How was everything?, and the other hostess is, like Shut Up! They're the ones who found the guy in the bathroom!"
"So, did you ever find out what had happened?"
"No," Michelle shrugged. "He had been drinking at the bar a while, and then my husband found him."
So, Leaguers, a little morbid thought for the next time you're feeling like heading down to your corner [large chain corporate restaurant].