Long ago on the west side of Chicago there was a pizza restaurant named Scosttio's. Open late at night and offering the musical styling of an ancient organ player and lounge singer named Horatio. My friends and I would gather there late for pitchers of beer and industrial grade pizza. Not the best. Not the worst. But hot enough to burn the roof of your mouth every time.
I was not the first to make a remarkable discovery but I can attest to how long this little gem of a , shall we say 1970's version of an Easter Egg, remained ensconced in the "terlet" of Scossttio's. One friend came back laughing uncontrollably and announced to the table that we had to go up to the "terlet" and look under the square piece of plywood that was laying in one corner.
Being young and germ proof we each our turn, went and lifted this plywood square. Each returned cracking up and urged the next to go peek. When I did the deed I found under plywood portal keeper a pair of baby blue boxer shorts. Clean. Not visibly soiled , neatly spread out under the plywood.
A silly mystery at best and enough of an amusement for a group of stoned drinking snickering idiots to keep us coming back. For years. Those baby blue boxer shorts remained there. Never aging. Never being removed by the cleaning staff. Pristine in their repose. A harbinger of mirth with each new friend, date, or acquaintance to whom we revealed this memorial.
It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key.