Jessica and I had lunch today at Olive Garden. We first sat at a booth but for some reason The OG under estimated the gurth of their patrons and had the benches way to close to the table. The only part of my body I want on the table while I’m eating are my elbows, thank you. Anyway, we moved to a table right next to our wee sized booth and missed having the coolest server ever, Mark Wahlberg. Ok, ok, so it wasn’t THE Mark Wahlberg, but I swear he was a cousin or something. Not only did he look like him (sorry, no picture, I need a new camera phone) but he sounded exactly like him too. He had a couple booths around us so I was waiting for someone to actually think they would be the only person he’s ever run across to ask him, “Hey, you sound just like Mark Wahlberg, are you from Boston?” It was so weird, it was like that guy from “Fear” was behind me taking orders. I could just imagine him taking advantage of a young Reese Witherspoon. Thank goodness we were no where near a rollercoaster. (I know, obscure reference, but if you get it, it’s worth it.)

Anyway, being the people person I am (and by people person I mean snoop) I tried to listen in to all of his conversations. Turns out he was from the West Coast, Bay area in fact. He said something about living in Japan while he makes music and all of his friends were from the North East. He thinks that’s where he picked up his accent. I just wanted to ask him to say, “Wicked Pisser.” Ah, the exciting lives of people in SD.