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I just got back from the gas station where I went to pick up a diet soda and a package of off-brand peanut butter cups better than anything Reese's ever dreamed up.
There was one person at the counter when I came up with my purchases. He looked to be in his late teens and wore a cap, a tank top, shiny blue basketball shorts, and... cowboy boots with spurs. For safety's sake, the spurs were wrapped in tape. Thank goodness.
It seemed that he wanted their cheapest brand of chewing tobacco. It took some time for everyone to figure out what brand this might be, and then the shit hit the fan when the clerk asked for the guy's ID. He didn't have it. The clerks apologized. Mr. Safety Spurs stormed out, hit the door hard enough to launch the change from his pockets, and slammed out.
"I think you were expecting too much of someone wearing spurs with shorts," I said. "That's got to be the dumbest thing I've seen in at least half an hour."
"Ohmigod, was he really wearing spurs?" asked one clerk, looking out into the parking lot.
Mr. Safety Spurs had gotten into a beat-up old truck driven by another redneck and was leaning out the window giving everyone inside the store the death glare as the truck drove past.
"Yep!" I said brightly.
"Is the circus in town?" asked the other clerk.
Other customers behind me who had seen all of this were muttering about how if Mr. Safety Spurs didn't want his change, they sure wouldn't mind picking it up.
Then the first clerk told me about how the only other person who'd gotten angry when she asked for ID was now her best friend because that person's boyfriend had talked some sense into her. I mentioned the time I got a death threat because someone tripped on the staircase at the hotel where I worked.
Then I left, and on the way I stooped to pick up a quarter. Thanks, Mr. Safety Spurs!
There was one person at the counter when I came up with my purchases. He looked to be in his late teens and wore a cap, a tank top, shiny blue basketball shorts, and... cowboy boots with spurs. For safety's sake, the spurs were wrapped in tape. Thank goodness.
It seemed that he wanted their cheapest brand of chewing tobacco. It took some time for everyone to figure out what brand this might be, and then the shit hit the fan when the clerk asked for the guy's ID. He didn't have it. The clerks apologized. Mr. Safety Spurs stormed out, hit the door hard enough to launch the change from his pockets, and slammed out.
"I think you were expecting too much of someone wearing spurs with shorts," I said. "That's got to be the dumbest thing I've seen in at least half an hour."
"Ohmigod, was he really wearing spurs?" asked one clerk, looking out into the parking lot.
Mr. Safety Spurs had gotten into a beat-up old truck driven by another redneck and was leaning out the window giving everyone inside the store the death glare as the truck drove past.
"Yep!" I said brightly.
"Is the circus in town?" asked the other clerk.
Other customers behind me who had seen all of this were muttering about how if Mr. Safety Spurs didn't want his change, they sure wouldn't mind picking it up.
Then the first clerk told me about how the only other person who'd gotten angry when she asked for ID was now her best friend because that person's boyfriend had talked some sense into her. I mentioned the time I got a death threat because someone tripped on the staircase at the hotel where I worked.
Then I left, and on the way I stooped to pick up a quarter. Thanks, Mr. Safety Spurs!
(killed me again)
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