$5.37.
That's what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bueno said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and
two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to
head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid with the Emo hairdo said the harshest thing anyone has
ever said to me. He said, " It's OK. I'll just give you the senior citizen discount." I turned to see who he
was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. "Only $4.68" he said
cheerfully. I stood there stupefied. I am 48, not even 50 yet -a mere child! Senior citizen? I took my burrito
and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Emo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began
to boil. Old? Me? I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the
counter, and there he was waiting with a smile. Before I could say a word, he help up something and jingled it in
front of me like I could be that easily distracted! What am I now? A toddler? "Dude! Can't get too far without
your car keys, eh?" I began to rationalize in my mind. Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could
happen to anyone!" I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't
turn. What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That's when I noticed the purple beads
hanging from my rearview mirror. I had no purple beads handing from my rearview mirror. Then, a few other objects
came into focus. The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten
doughnut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle. Moments later I
was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when
I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my
burrito, only it was nowhere to be found. I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the
restaurant one final time. There Emo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, "What is
the world coming to?" All I could say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point I was ready to
ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits.
Emo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my
attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by
mistake." I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized. She offered these kind words:
"It's OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time." All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing
85 in a 40. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be
driving this fast. As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold
food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blanky. The good
news was I had successfully found my way home.
To compel a man to subsidize with his taxes the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical.
Thomas Jefferson
There are currently 1 users browsing this thread. (0 members and 1 guests)
Bookmarks