So it's about 11:30 or something last night, and I'm finishing eating sushi with this guy that I am meeting for the first time ever. (Long story.) And we're following the other people who were there to this other place in Minneapolis for drinks. (Longer story.) And I am so engrossed in the conversation -- dig this -- that I put my jacket on inside out. Which I don't notice until we've gone out and gotten in my car and we're halfway there, at which point I look down at my sleeve and say, "Oh. Well, I have my jacket on inside out." And he kind of goes, "Huh." Because . . . what are his other options, really? So I say, "Well . . . it's kicky, right? We'll agree that it's kicky, because otherwise, it will be reeeeeeally embarrassing." And when we get to the other place and I park the car, I say, "Just a moment, I'm going to put my jacket on right-side out." He proposes that if I just wear it into the bar, perhaps I will start a trend, and before you know it, everyone will be wearing their clothes in unusual arrangements. "Pants on your head . . . ," he suggests.

Fast forward to about 3:15 in the morning when we're finally being bodily evicted from this place (you know when you're so . . . whatever, that they bring the check and you don't move, and they take the coffee cups and you don't move, and they turn off the music and you don't move, and they turn on the bright lights and you don't move? yeah), and there's just nobody around, and then out of nowhere, as we're leaving, there's this woman standing in the little entryway. And she looks at me and she says, "Great jacket!"

Clearly, she was placed by forces more powerful than any of us to provide the following line which, to his credit, he landed on instantly: "You should see it inside out."

Eeeeexcellent.