November 29, 2016
I had to go out and run errands today. After stops at several stores I came out of the supermarket, loaded my bags into the back of the truck and was sitting in my driver’s seat eating beer nuts and looking around.
Just across the lot from where I sat was a dusty old white pickup with its lights on. It wasn’t quite dusk yet and there weren’t too many cars or people way out in the lot where my red truck and that white one were. I got out of my truck, walked over to the white one to see if I could open the door and turn out the lights but it was locked. I walked around it to see if maybe there was an open window. I didn’t find one of those either. The rear bumper was covered in mud except for one patch that was wiped off a bit. Right there, where the bumper was a little bit clean, was a bumper sticker. It was pretty worn and had some little dings in it. It said, “Make America Great Again.”
So I walked back to my truck and got in, had some more beer nuts. Those beer nuts sure are good. Well I thought I’d be happy just to make America good again. But I wasn’t feeling that I could do too much about it right then, at least not by myself. And then the next mouthful of beer nuts I had was bitter. Have you ever had that? Just in the middle of such a pleasant bit of snacking you get the nasty taste in your mouth. Just then a young woman came by with her cart full and a couple of kids. “Hey, some idiot left his lights on,” she says to me, or maybe to no one in particular. I wasn’t sure. “Might not be an idiot,” I said. “Maybe just forgetful.” She looked at me and then back at that white truck. “Nah. Definitely an idiot.” Then she shook her head and walked off.
By now I’d pretty much soured on the beer nuts. I got out of my truck and walked over to the white one with its lights on. Walked around it a few more times. Then I noticed there were a lot of broken up concrete slab pieces in the back. So I picked up a good size one and walked around to the front of the truck. I had to throw it at the windshield four times before it shattered. Then I reached in and shut off the lights. Simple as that.
I walked back to my truck, finished the beer nuts and drove home.
The moral of this story escapes me. Except, I guess, when morality escapes this is what you’re left with.
Just across the lot from where I sat was a dusty old white pickup with its lights on. It wasn’t quite dusk yet and there weren’t too many cars or people way out in the lot where my red truck and that white one were. I got out of my truck, walked over to the white one to see if I could open the door and turn out the lights but it was locked. I walked around it to see if maybe there was an open window. I didn’t find one of those either. The rear bumper was covered in mud except for one patch that was wiped off a bit. Right there, where the bumper was a little bit clean, was a bumper sticker. It was pretty worn and had some little dings in it. It said, “Make America Great Again.”
So I walked back to my truck and got in, had some more beer nuts. Those beer nuts sure are good. Well I thought I’d be happy just to make America good again. But I wasn’t feeling that I could do too much about it right then, at least not by myself. And then the next mouthful of beer nuts I had was bitter. Have you ever had that? Just in the middle of such a pleasant bit of snacking you get the nasty taste in your mouth. Just then a young woman came by with her cart full and a couple of kids. “Hey, some idiot left his lights on,” she says to me, or maybe to no one in particular. I wasn’t sure. “Might not be an idiot,” I said. “Maybe just forgetful.” She looked at me and then back at that white truck. “Nah. Definitely an idiot.” Then she shook her head and walked off.
By now I’d pretty much soured on the beer nuts. I got out of my truck and walked over to the white one with its lights on. Walked around it a few more times. Then I noticed there were a lot of broken up concrete slab pieces in the back. So I picked up a good size one and walked around to the front of the truck. I had to throw it at the windshield four times before it shattered. Then I reached in and shut off the lights. Simple as that.
I walked back to my truck, finished the beer nuts and drove home.
The moral of this story escapes me. Except, I guess, when morality escapes this is what you’re left with.
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