@postaday 307; #postaday2011.
This is a very late post for me. I can’t even hope to get 50 hits on it. But sometimes that which should be written doesn’t happen until later in the day.
I went to 7-11 to get gas and to get a beer to go with the McRib I was going to get next. I worked out at 24-Hour Fitness Hawaii Kai. It was my dinner. And it’s the only McRib I’ll eat. Shoot me. I know. It’s so wrong.
I go in there and this darling senior woman behind the counter tells me she cannot sell me the one-pint Land Shark lager that I was soon to enjoy without proper identification.
I giggled. I was giddy! Imagine. In my work-out clothes, hair tousled and mussed, just another broad looking for a beer. Not lemonade. Not cherry wine. Not a Mickey’s. Not a 40.
As she slid her glasses up her nose and reviewed my Hawaii Driver’s License, she gave it a study and said, “You’re the same age as my daughter! She just turned 53.” Imagine that. “You’re gonna be 53 on December 12th. 12/12. Well, happy birthday, My Dear!”
I said thank you, I told her to tell her daughter happy birthday, and she sent me and my lone beer on my way. I just had it here at home. When I’m up to no good, it’s usually in a safe place. Heh.
By the way. Would anyone happen to know if gas tanks stop at $75 or was my van really that thirsty tonight? There goes my allowance!