I haven’t seen the very cool movie Repo Man in a looong time, but it was on my TV this weekend. It’s still a lot of fun.
The wait for a table at Lone Star was an hour+ Saturday night. We didn’t stay. I can wait that long at far better restaurants.On my satellite radio, I heard Liz Phair’s “Fuck and Run” from her spectacular debut CD (which is now amazingly 15 years old!). Now I can’t get the song out of my head. And it’s not like I can going around singing it out loud.
At Sam’s Club, I picked up a sample of some orange juice and began to walk away. The crabby old bitch manning the sample station, tersely said, “YOU'RE WELCOME!” Normally, I will say thank you when picking up a sample, but for some reason I didn’t that time. Sheesh. But I did have a revelation: old women who would have been cranky nuns teaching me in parochial school 40 years ago, are now sample givers at Sams.
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On her way to work that morning she looked in the mirror, and realized she was far to old to have to keep working.
She pulled herself out of bed anyway wondering when she'd be able to afford to get her car stereo fixed. She drove past the Lone Star, and was allowed the privilege to smell steak, and she wondered if when ever she'd be able to afford to eat steak again before she dies.
As she got out of her old car she brushed against the salt on her car, and wished she had the money for the car wash, but instead found herself hoping for a good rain to wash the salt caked upon her car.
Later she watched as customers would grab the little samples off her table without even stopping a moment to check out the product being pitched.
There was one that was particularly arrogant about it, and she just lost it, and said something she later regretted.
Her boss overheard her, and fired her. Today she found out she has bone cancer, has no medical insurance, and is unemployed.
That will teach her.
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