So, I spent the day yesterday driving
TOG and DYS to WalMart and then lunching at TOG’s favorite local café, where
the food is boring, the help is always happy to be sexually harassed, and the
other customers are polite enough to ignore TOG’s inappropriate behavior.
The day began when, as I drove up to
the Vida Loco to pick up TOG and get his scooter attached to the lift, he
handed me an empty paper coffee cup. Not satisfied with letting me do all the
work of strapping the scooter to the lift while he simply stumbles into the air
conditioned car to wait, he also had to hand me his trash to drop into the back
seat to dispose of later. Which turned out to be rather undramatic
foreshadowing.
At some point in the middle of the
day, between telling me where I should have turned, TOG pointed out a car that
was a very bright red. The, another one right after that! This single sample
should suffice to symbolize the scintillating substance of the subjects of our
discourse. I could feel the life force draining out of the tips of my fingers
as the day progressed.
The day ended when I dropped DYS at
her trailer and she was pulling her WalMart bags out of the back seat and there
was a small box of “nice’n clean Lens Wipes” (with a cute
blue drop of water as the apostrophe in the name) that remained on the back
seat. When I asked isn’t this yours, she replied, no I don’t need it, thought
you might want it.
Not only can these people not dispose
of their own trash, the feel compelled to give it to others to do so.
The middle of the day went about as
you’d expect given the start and finish. I went to the booze barn en route home
in order salvage a shred of will to live. As I sat in my comfy chair drinking
my gin and ginger ale, I cleaned my eyeglasses with a lens wipe and
congratulated myself on surviving another day.
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