I drove to the beer store this noon in anticipation that I could not enjoy watching The-
Texan– Bagdad, Floridian????
Win-The Master’s-Tournament today without supporting a proper buzz.
The street to the Beer Store is four-lane. The cross street is also four-lane.
At the Red Light (that is how we call traffic lights in Texas) there was an old man.
He had Sunday Papers scattered about over two of the four lanes at the intersection, selling them
Now, I ask you. What kind of character is that? Could I ever be that noble? Could I schlep all those papers out there, brave the traffic. Try to make a buck for my family?
I would not.
But then, I am not a good man such as that.
But I’m not.
I wanted to stop and buy one of his papers, but of course I was too fucking busy and had no time to stop.