His shirt read: “Camp Howell Red Team.” Must have been some sort of sleepaway camp souvenir. How many softball games and tugs-of-war must have sweated through that thing? My first thought, after noting the appreciably tight fit, was, “Huh… what a coincidence that the shirt is also red.”
For a second or two too long, it did not occur to me that this was not a coincidence.
Oh, what good fortune that I was alone! Or I might have been tempted to point out my clever observation to someone. Funny how grateful one can be for not saying some things out loud. I’ve managed to pass myself off as a half-way intelligent person more times than I care to recall by simple virtue of keeping my mouth shut.
... but enough about me 
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