And to-day, this happened.
Had purchased two watermelons: one for the backpack, and one for the workout. Performing Watermelon Workout while walking down the Ave., a girl (wearing a coat on an eighty-degrees-out day — green coat, too; she wasn’t even rocking the goth-wear) asked, “Is that your weights?”
After I responded in the affirmative, she noted, “Tasty weights!” Couldn’t even disagree.
So, went to the quad, et the watermelon, goofed around for a while, and cetera; then began hoofing it back up the Ave., just doing a kinda half-assed workout with the second watermelon. Well, I’ll be god damned if the same girl wearing the same green coat on the same eighty-degrees-out day happened to be standing on a different corner, noticed me, and questioned, “Is that the same watermelon?”
No, it wasn’t.
“Uh…” After a several-seconds Pause Of Consternation, she blurted, “What’s going on with the watermelons??”
Me: “It’s the newest rage!”
I’m telling you people: catch this wave or get pulled under. ’cause the Watermelon Workout is going to fuck this country up.