I had a late start on my town trip Saturday, after food prep for Sunday's feast. It was actually refreshing to get out in the hustle and bustle, after being chained to my grandma's pedestal table from 11:00 to 4:00.
You never know what you might encounter on a trip to Hillmomba. Sometimes you get The Pony's People, the kind who dive through a door like doomy-temple Indiana Jones under a falling rock slab, rather than hold it open for an old lady behind them. The kind who won't give you the courtesy wave when you stop and let them cross over the low water bridge before you proceed. Or tuck in their flannel shirts, trim their beards to Kenny Rogers specs, and jump the line ahead of already-waiting customers...
Anyhoo... I was coming out of the Liquor Store when I spotted a PENNY! Sorry to ruin this Saturday's surprise. I almost didn't see it, because I was watching a jalopy park next to T-Hoe, where there IS NO PARKING SPACE! Sweet Gummi Mary! There was a space directly behind T-Hoe, and four on the other side. But this dude had to make his own space.
Anyhoo... I saw the copper glint, and SHINY took precedence over an impudent parker. I had tucked my scratchers in my armpit, and was pointing my camera at the penny when this dude came around the front of his car.
"Hi there! How are you?"
"Found myself a penny!"
On he went. MY PEOPLE. They may park illegally, but they are friendly.
In the Gas Station Chicken Store, a 20-something kid came in with greasy forearms (like he'd been working on a car engine) and a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. He was counting out several dollar bills. He was there ahead of me. I waited a respectful distance as I walked up with my magical elixir.
"Go ahead."
"Oh, no. I saw you come in while I was putting the lid on my soda. You were here first."
"No, go ahead."
"Well, if you're sure. Thank you!"
Uh huh. There are still some of MY PEOPLE around. Polite, just a little dirty, bad parkers, and paying cash.
3 comments:
I don't think there are any of "My people" out here, I just don't seem to fit any groupings. I don't mind being unique.
Use a title like this again (I've been counting, and this is the 19th time you've robbed the Steve Miller Band) and I will report you to ABBA (Anti-Bloggers Bent on unAuthorized appropriation).
In fact, I've contacted ABBA several times before, but apparently this blog-police group is made up of two men and two women, and the women are really trying to avoid helping me...
River,
You haven't been brainwashed enough by the media yet. When you start looking at the world as US and THEM, you'll know their divisive tactics have worked. Even though I know their evil agenda, I have fallen into the trap.
***
Sioux,
C'mon, man! NINETEEN??? I'm pretty sure you are exaggerating, or perhaps just an innocent math simpleton. I'm sure I haven't used it more than... um... two handfuls of times. MAYBE I was "borrowing" from another source. Like "Butcher, Baker, Candlestick-Maker."
Your reliance on ABBA is futile. I am an auxiliary member in good standing with the SO VERY WRONG POLICE. I have them on speed dial, and you will have a battering ram at your door before you can sing one verse of "The Joker."
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