Note to reader — This is a slightly embellished form of a set of events that happened to me last week.
Lee had finished helping his widowed mother with pruning and yard upkeep and rolled into his Toyota Camry to go home. One block from his mom’s place he noticed his car was on empty and so he pulled on into the local convenience store in order to fill up. He was in a upper middle class part of Holland, Michigan.
Upon getting out of his car he bumped into the 60 year old lady who was filling up her mini SUV. Lee couldn’t help notice that this 60 year old SUV lady was wearing a turquoise halter top with mini-skirt jeans. He figured that a 60 year old lady wearing a turquoise halter top w/ mini skirt jeans intended to be noticed.
Still, Lee managed to top off the tank and went in the store to pay the clerk. Lee waited in line behind the 60 year old SUV lady wearing a turquoise halter top with mini-skirt jeans and a gentleman wearing shin length “shorts” and a muscle man shirt. The waist of the “shorts” fit snugly around the lower half of his buttocks. Lee hadn’t realized they made the Boxer shorts beneath the “shorts” in such dynamic colors. Lee thought to himself, “I need to see if I can find me a pair of those.” On the upper bicep of “shorts” man was tattooed a huge map of Michigan, while just below the elbow daintily rested a artfully tattooed “Grateful Dead” skull logo. In “shorts” man’s right ear hung what looked to be a mid sized nut and bolt earring dangling from his pierced lobe. Lee stared at the nut and bolt wondering how the ear lobe could handle such a constant strain from the weight of the hardware.
Eventually Lee made his way to the Convenience store clerk to pay for his petrol. Across the counter from him stood a young lady with a name tag that spelled, “Shytillequi.” She sported Rastafarian dreadlocks and her first language was definitely Ebonics. Lee had never met a Rastafarian Ebonics speaking “Shytillequi” before but after meeting the turquoise lady and the tattoo-shorts-piercing man he was ready to meet just about anybody.
And anybody is who he bumped into next on his way back to his Toyota Camry. There waiting for him at his car was a Jesus thump-er, complete with handy dandy “Jesus loves you” salvation tracts and a ready explanation on how the rapture was certainly to take place any day now. Lee, not wanting to be rude, spoke with the Jesus man for a few minutes and managed to convince the Jesus man that his own soul was safe and that he might better spend his time speaking to either the 60 year old SUV lady wearing a turquoise halter top with mini-skirt jeans, or the tattoo-“shorts”-piercing guy or the Rastafarian Ebonics speaking Shytillequi. The Jesus man, upon hearing of such a target rich environment looked like a blue tick coon dog about to tree his first coon.
Lee was tempted to stick around the convenience store, if only for the entertainment value he was confident that the conversations of the Jesus man with the 60 year old SUV lady wearing a turquoise halter top mini-skirt jeans, or of the Jesus man with the tattoo-“shorts”-piercing guy or of the Jesus man with the Rastafarian Ebonics speaking Shytillequi would soon create, but Lee had already had enough exposure to the sublime and surreal for the next week and so he clicked his heels three times, hopped into his Toyota and prayed to God that he could find his way back to his Kansas.
