1. Order pizza for take-out from Flatbread.
2. Discuss over dinner why you have never actually eaten Flatbread for dinner* before, in two-plus years in Portland.
3. Somehow get into a discussion about presidential assassinations.
4. Discover you were both right: McKinley and Garfield were both assassinated. Sort of.
5. Wonder if having three names makes one more likely to succeed as a presidential assassin.
6. Wind up talking about Stephen Sondheim.
Yeah. Trust me; if you wiki "Jim and Leigh Maltese," you get redirected to a terribly appropriate term.
OK, actually, it'd be cooler for us if that were true. Which just proves the point.
And dude. Garfield's assassin? Totally nuts.
*If you care: We have both had Flatbread before, but because I am a yuppie pizza snob, we have never ordered it in for ourselves. Or any other pizza, for that matter -- we've made do with quais-gourmet frozen for as long as we've lived in Maine. Yeah, I'm serious. And yeah, I know I'm weird that way. Deal.