The name doesn’t have the rhythmic cache of Biff Pocoroba or Phil Villapiano, but it has its own feel to it. Brock. How many people have you met named Brock? I’ve known a couple. Well, one. I’ve heard of a couple, though. Zeman. He’s the first one I’ve ever noticed. I say noticed instead of heard of because as sure as the rains down in Africa (apologies to Toto— the band, not the dog), I will now meet a handful of Brocks and damned if every other person will be a Zeman. I know. Never met a girl named Debbie until I dated one, then every other new girl I met was a Debbie. I’m ready, though. I have practiced and have at least ten or so unique greetings for the Brocks and Zemans about to be unleashed on me.
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