I fly hot sauce?

Okay, file this one under the annals of "are you fucking kidding me?"

But truly, I'm not. And there was a witness.

My friend Kev and I met at this Irish pub in Littleton (had to go to the 'burbs because it was only fair to meet in a place half way between my house and Kev's house). It was kind of not so great so we went to a Denver Writer's hangout about a half mile away.

It was in that place that something fucking weird happened.

We had just finished eating (Kev had fish & chips, he's a veg now, and I had tuna sashimi, perhaps the mercury is turning me into the mad hatter) and I had just finished telling Kev how my intuition (some people say I'm psychic) has been off the charts the past two months. I was staring down at the table when suddenly I looked up because there was a clatter to my right. We were at a table against the wall; there was a bar about 7 feet to our right. The table we were sitting at was not big. I could see the entire surface even staring down at the table.

Somehow the hot sauce (I know, this sounds insane) had flown from our table, from its little holding pen against the wall with the salt, pepper, mustard, ketchup, and what ever other shit they had in there, across the 7 feet to the bar, and had landed under a bar stool.

I was like "dude, how did that happen?"

He was like "Maybe it was placed in this holder some weird way and...something happened...and it flew over there."

To rub it in, Kev was like "why don't you levitate this object with your mind?" a few more times during the course of the evening.

Weird. I am not making this up. Kev, if you read this, say I'm not crazy. Because seriously dude, that was fucking crazy.