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Location: Columbia, South Carolina, United States
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Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Tuesday's Gone (Thank Heavens)

Holy moly, what an aggervatin' day yesterday was. It's bad enough I gotta wake up with half a hangover, but then I gotta hear a kooky Mexican dancin' and singin' La Cucaracha outside my dadgummed bedroom window.

"Wake up, Gringo! We have work to do!"

Next man I hear that says "Mexicans are lazy", is gonna get a 55 gallon drum of whoopass dumped all over'em.

So I holler out the window at him, "Hold your donkeys, ya foul heathen, or I'll call the INS! I'll be out in a minute.". That minute actually turned into twenty minutes, 'cause I was trying to decide whether I should wear my fancy new flannel underbritches,or "go commando" on this warm Spring day. (I opted for the latter)

So,I get all gussied up and we start headin' up the road. After a brew and a game of pool at the hooch hut,we finally make it up to Food Lion. He says he's gonna run in the Dollar Store while I buy my carton of Pall Mall's. Cool enough. Well, I buy my coffin nails, and stand outside the store waitin' on him. And waitin'. And waitin'.

He finally drags hisself out and moseys out to the car. Then he tells me about the Dollar Store having cool shades for just three bucks. Well, ain't no way I can turn down a bargain like that. So we head on in there. I pick out the pair I like, and get to the register. The cashier lady says "Three dollas."

I says "Three dollas? I ain't payin' no three dollas for these heah shades! I'll give ya two fitty."

She says "Two fitty?! You must be the craziest cracka' this side of the Congaree! You ain't gettin' these heah shades for no two fitty! How 'bout I charge yo' ass three twinny figh?!"

"Ehhhh, now that I think about it, I think three dollas is a fair price."

"That's right it is! Ya ol' silly fool, trying to bargain like you at a flea market. Somethin's wrong with you!"


So, I paid the three dollas (plus 18 cent tax) and El Bastardo and I headed for the door. As we began to walk out, I heard the cashier lady call her friend to give me accolades.

"Shantel! You ain't gon' believe this! Some goofy honkey just tried to bargain and use coupons at my Dollar Store! That's one crazy mutha...."

We walked on out before we heard the rest of her kind words about me. But El Bastardo did snap a pic of me with his picture takin' camera, as I struck a dead-sexy pose in my new three dolla shades:


Before we leave, El Bastardo says he wants to run back in Food Lion and get some bean chili to go with the hot dogs we planned on cooking later. I begged him not to. He did anyway.

Anyhoo, fast forward about 90 minutes. We finish eatin', and begin discussin' how we're gonna proceed with the bodywork on his car. Then, as we speak, he gets the urge to whip out his knife, slice open the other can of beans, and down them all like Popeye does spinach. I knew this weren't gonna be good for anyone or anything. I was right.

About thirty minutes later, he starts sounding like Mt. St Helens. Field mice and cockroaches begin fleeing my shop, 'skeeters and moths are dyin' in mid-flight, car alarms start goin' off, and even the ragweed growin' around my shop started dyin' right before my eyes. Not good. But fortunately, me bein' the great visionary and man with foresight, I planned ahead:


They say "all's well that ends well". I don't know who "they" are, but personally I think "they" are full of it. This isn't a victory at all, but merely once more escaping the cold hand of the Grim Reaper for me. Will I be so lucky next time, is what concerns me.

The saddest part, is that after I finally got in the house and kicked off my boots, the vile odor that was released from them was damn near as bad as what El Bastardo and Hormel unleashed upon me hours prior.

Now y'all know why I have "woes".

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