The Lance Dance

This morning I watched the NYC marathon in front of the 79th Street Cafe on First Avenue. For the first half hour, Jake and I commented on almost every runner that passed. For example, if a man with green sneakers ran by, one of us would say something like, "Shamrock shoes!" You know, real comedy gold.

The main attraction of this year's race was not the pack of speedy Kenyans at the front of the race; it was Lance Armstrong's debut at the NYC marathon. After waiting for at least 45 minutes for Armstrong to run by us, Jake turned to me and said, "Man, I wanna see the Lance Dance!"

Yes, this is one of the stupidest sentences ever uttered by a man. An old lady standing next to us looked at me and Jake with an incredulous look on her face and said, "You want to see the Lance Dance?" Without hesitation, Jake pointed at me sheepishly and mumbled, "He said it." Ten minutes later, Armstrong cruised by us surrounded by a small entourage with a camera crew in his face. After he passed us, the old lady turned to Jake and I and cackled, "There goes your Lance Dance!"