I don’t remember urinating. Do you?

Checkers was the only place open. Royal Farms was closing. Never a Wawa around when you need one.

So we swung into the parking lot. There was a nice breeze out and I was telling Big that my team, Burnsy’s Off Duty Ninjas, might not be a big play team per say- but they would at least be consistent.

Then we noticed a woman pushing a car into a parking space.

I stopped. I wasn’t sure about getting out, I thought about maybe giving her a bump with the bow. Big didn’t hesitate though. He hopped right out. The woman, middle aged with short hair, was trying to push her mid-size sedan into a spot because she had run out of gas. She had Oregon plates and told Big that she was oddly enough, driving to Oregon.

“You have a long way to go,” Grande said. “You’ll definitely need gas.”

We pushed her car. Her driving was suspect- she kept steering into the curb. So twice we let the mid-sized sedan roll back and twice pushed it. On the third try, she made it and we pushed her successfully into a spot. I hopped back in the car. Big gave her some guidance and got in. A good deed done for the day; so let’s go get some food.

Chicken sandwiches. I didn’t see what happened to the women. In my mind, we had all moved on. I could only hope that if she was driving to Oregon, she should plan out her pit stops better.

At the window, it took a while. It took longer than it should have, because it was only two chicken sandwiches. After a couple minutes the window opened and an old clunker of gal handed us our food, our chicken sandwiches and after taking our money, said, “You know, I don’t appreciate y’all urinating behind our dumpster. I got it on video tape.”

Nothing. Silence. Big or I weren’t really sure how to respond.

“We got it on video,” she said.

“We were helping a lady in distress,” Big said. “We pushed her car.”

“I know what I saw.”

After that it was some back and forth and this devil woman was adamant that Chris and I didn’t push this woman’s mid-sized sedan, but instead urinated behind the Checkers’ dumpster. Behind her, the other employees looked confused and one with a beast of a hickey on her neck gave us a sympathetic shrug of the shoulders. Devil woman closed the window and Big & I sat there for a minute- still just not sure how to respond.
Five minutes ago we were damn fine individuals and now, we were street rats out soiling the private property of Checkers. Was there spit in our food? Videotape? Was there going to be repercussions?

We steered the ship in the direction of Jeff’s. Part of me expected to be waved down by Coasties and that part of me starting thinking about what I would say. Another part of me just wasn’t sure what had just happened and if the lady with the mid-sized sedan heading to Oregon even existed. I asked Big if he had urinated behind a dumpster and he said he hadn’t. I hadn’t either. I had pushed a woman’s car.

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

So what the hell had just happened?

We’ll never know. That beast getting fired won’t help and Big & I are both sure that neither one of us urinated behind a dumpster and yes, we had instead, pushed a lady’s car.
It’s just another Tuesday night outside of Baltimore, tail end of summer and even with a stud receiver like Calvin Johnson on your team, at best the Ninjas are a wait & see project and that devil woman has a story to tell the other burger slingers.

Video tape and all.

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