En Fuego

Last Friday I was at my favorite local card room, and I was “en fuego”, “on fire”, “smokin’” whatever figurative euphemism you like. Except I was really on fire!

To set the stage, I had been out with some friends consuming adult beverages and clowning around. As part of the festivities at some point my friend Dave placed several books of matches in the pocket of my sweatshirt. This in and of itself is not a strange occurrence. Dave and I have been taking mass quantities of this kind of non-descript matchbook from bars for a couple of years now. The number of matchbooks in your pocket is a pretty fair indicator of how many cocktails you are over the line. Anyway, Dave probably put about a half dozen books in my pocket. I had not taken any matchbooks.

Later in the evening I was playing poker at my favorite card room. As I was walking back to the table, I felt a warm sensation against my lower left belly. I put my hand where the heat was and I felt even more heat. I looked down and there was smoke billowing from my jacket pocket! I immediately crushed the contents of my pocket against my body to put out the fire. I spontaneously combusted!

I really have no idea what happened. I have some ideas around the match heads rubbing against each other or against my keys, but I really don’t know. I asked if any of the other patrons saw any “ball lightening”. But all they did was laugh and deny they saw anything but my smoking sweatshirt.

Fortunately I was not injured. My jacket has a hole on the outside and the inside of the left side pocket. It also smells like burning rubber. I guess that makes sense. I also get to tell people I was on fire at the casino and mean it. Truth be told, it wasn’t that great.