Beer Thirty

Sunday, Tori drove over to the house and then the entire family met Lew and Dona for lunch a little further North. We stopped on the way for gas.

When we turned into the station, Steve made a comment about a car that at the pump a few over from the one we were pulling into. It was an older model plane car. Nothing new, nothing fancy. A clunker. A clunker with a faded paint job and a racing strip.

I thought that was funny and looked to see who was driving it. A woman stepped out. Blond white hair with brown roots at least three inches long. Hair tussled. Looked like she woke up, stumbled out to the car, and drove to the store. Her face was still red in places, from where I assumed she'd slept on her side.

She had on a baggy t-shirt with no bra and overly tight jogging pants. Not that there was anything wrong with what she was wearing. She just looked a little old to be running to the store like that comfortably. At this point, I'm just sort of curious and I would have stopped watcher her except I noticed . . .

She was barefoot. She exited the car, walked across a nasty-ass parking lot and into the store with no shoes on. I no the parking lot was nasty, because as soon as she got into the store she wiped her bare feet on the welcome mat to clean them off.

My, "Ewww" coincided with Tori's laugh. Apparently we had both been watching Ms. Racing Stripe. It seem to take her longer to come out than I expected. But when she exited she was carrying a 24 pack of Bud Light in cans. I glanced at the dash clock and it was 12:03. That explained it, she had to wait for noon to purchase alcohol.

After getting in her car, she pulled up less than 50 feet to the air/vacuum location. At this point, Tori and I are throwing theories back and forth at each other. Tori thinks she needs to vacuum her feet off, I though maybe she had a slow leak in a tire.

As it happened, she never got out of the car. She sit there about a minute and backed up and drove off.

Must have been Beer Thirty. (Or, more like Beer:05.)