Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Everybody Run--Betty Crocker's Got a Gun

I went to the grocery store today for a chicken breast.


I've been working on my column leads. I think it's going well.

I'm in line at the checkout and somebody behind me slams down two items on the conveyor belt. I mean SLAMS. I turn around and it's a young guy, maybe twenty, talking on his cell phone.

"Yeah, I left," he says. "Why? Because everybody pissed me off, man. I am so pissed off right now. I swear the next guy that pisses me off, I'm going to bust a cap in his ass."

So immediately I ask myself the only logical question in this situation: what does a guy who's about to bust a cap in somebody's ass buy at the grocery store?

A bag of chocolate chips and a can of Crisco shortening.

Dude, you aren't busting a cap in anybody's ass. You're BAKING COOKIES.

I didn't say that to him, of course. I didn't want him to bust a cap in my ass.

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