when i was in college, my cousin and her friends had a friend named Bobby. He was this little guy from the Virgin Islands and he loved him some of my cousin. She is like 6'1 and he was like 5'2. Behind his back, they used to joke that he was so tiny you could put him in your pocket. Hence the name Pocket Bobby.
Well I found this to be hysterical. Like, poor guy, right? I blabbed to everyone in my family about my cousin's friend Pocket Bobby. Somehow, things got switched around and next thing I know, everyone had started referring to him as Bobby Pocket. Can you even imagine having a last name like Pocket? Nothing sounds good with it. Bobby Pocket. Rocky Pocket. You get my drift. Again, poor guy.
One night I went to a Sister Hazel concert. I didn't know a soul there but lucky for me, Pocket Bobby was there. Even luckier for me was that although he stood right smack in front of me the entire show, my view was never obstructed.
Pocket Bobby showed up everywhere. He was at all the parties, he was at Meredith College dances (still not sure who his date(s) were), he was at bars. All I know is people loved them some Pocket Bobby as much as he loved him some of my cousin.
Then Karoline went to a wedding, in a city halfway across the state. She called me and said "you are never going to believe who the usher was that escorted me down the aisle." I had no idea. I mean, I didn't even know the people whose wedding she was at so how would I know their wedding party.
How Pocket Bobby ended up at a wedding halfway across the state for people no one even knew is beyond me. But I will tell you this. He was like a Visa. But instead of being everywhere you want to be, he was everywhere you already were.
That sounds kind of creepy. Again, poor guy.