I've been cleaning out my home office the past week, and this morning I ran across something I hadn't seen in a while. It's a little trinket, a small plastic dinosaur (kinda looks like a Stegosaurus, but with a bunch of spikes on its back and tail), no more than 4" long and 1.5" tall, that's green and yellow and shows a bunch of nasty looking teeth. It was made in China, probably worth about 5 cents. No big deal, right? Except that I've kept this little dinosaur around for over 14 years because I still recall vividly the night it came into my possession.

Travel back with me to the fall of 1990. I was starting what should have been my last year in college (if you're on the 4-year plan - I wasn't), and I was pretty much wandering aimlessly between classes and a part-time job. I had met a girl who was an incoming freshman and we hooked up briefly, and while the romance was short-lived, we remain close friends to this day. A few weeks into the semester, we met for dinner at one of my favorite places of the time - Oak Street Bar and Grill. Don't look for it now, it's long gone. But at the time, it was a great place to meet and eat, because it was close to campus and the prices on the menu were close to campus as well. (You former starving college students know what I mean.)

So my friend and I were sitting at a table, waiting on our food to be brought out from the kitchen, when I noticed an unusual sight. A man, dressed kind of like a hobo or one of the semi-homeless that wandered around campus frequently, was moving around the restaurant from table to table. I only really noticed him at first, because after he left a table, the occupants wore very odd expressions on their faces. I watched him for a minute or two, methodically moving from one table to the next, heading from the back of the room toward the main entrance. I knew it was only a matter of time before his feet would bring him to our table and we would endure whatever action he was bringing to the other tables and booths in the establishment. I turned away from him so he wouldn't see me staring at him, and I tried to steel myself against whatever onslaught was encroaching, but I didn't even have time to warn my dinner partner what was about to happen.

Less than a minute after I averted my eyes, the stranger was upon us. He stood next to our table on my right, between my friend and me. I looked up at him and saw that he wasn't quite as disheveled as he had seemed from afar. While he did have the homeless/hobo vibe to him, I did not notice the smell that one might expect from such an individual. I barely had time to take all this in when it happened.

He did not make eye contact with either of us that I recall. He simply bent slightly toward the table and extended his right arm so his hand rested on the table next to the sugar jar and the salt and pepper shakers. He said, "Remember the dinosaurs," pulled his arm back from the table, and left the restaurant. The only remaining trace of his presence at our table was this small, plastic dinosaur.

I've never named the dinosaur, but I probably should. It's lived for long periods in my various cars, and I probably need to put him (I think it's a him) back in my current vehicle to resume his place of honor.

But it was nice to get an unexpected visit from a long-lost friend this week.