Inarticulate jock at local IHOP

IHOP is just about the only chain restaurant where I'll dine willingly, and that's only because I find St. Louis so wanting for a really good diner. (Am I missing one somewhere?) I don't miss much about New York, but I do desperately miss those Greek diners, one almost on every corner, most of them serving delicious food all up and down the menu.

My fellow St. Louisians seems to see IHOP the same way I do, because there's usually a wait at just about any location. This morning I sketched this kid on his cellphone while we were waiting for a table. I usually write down something interesting a person says while I am sketching them, but this guy never said anything interesting, so I dissed him with a caption.

Just as I was wrapping up my sketch, he was joined by his breakfast mates. As I watched them move into the restaurant together, I detected that swagger found only in young male humans who have been the subject of an irrational amount of adulation resulting from prowess on an athletic field, my guess was primarly football.

I never really regret getting older (yet) or wish I was young again, but when I do I'll do my best to remember how much of that adulation and swagger and absence of anything interesting to say defines those golden years.