Sunday, February 28, 2010

A vulture boards an airplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at him and says, "I’m sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger."

Rev Paul gave hat tip to someone for the pun; I’ll give him credit for posting it – and several others.

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I was doing sixty-five miles per hour on a narrow road when one like it left the road kill and crossed my lane at two feet high and rising, at twenty feet range. I learned to distrust  the things flying in Alaska. They are big, slow and protected.

With this one I wondered what the law would say if I’d killed it. Can you imagine? Busted vehicle, dead bird, feathers every where, would they let me keep the bird? Wonder if I could have gotten enough money for the feathers to repair the truck damage.

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Saw the Eagle on the way to the store. The store is a branch of the chain that has settled in two or three of the small towns, filling that niche left by the Mom and Pop grocer closings. The store I was going to has a very presentable lady in charge of the Deli section. I know nothing of her other than the interaction I have when ordering the various To-Go bulk salads and what not, and mention her only because she cannot seem to keep hired help in the section.

She was all alone the last time I went in and looking none too pleased. She’d gone as far as placing a help wanted sign in the window.

Looking around, I noticed, for the first time I’ll admit, that the majority of the staff were fifty-ish or better, and fewer than one might expect. Perhaps it was just the day of the week

I mention that, because the day after I went to another outlet the chain has to pick up several “I forgot to get . .” items. This place is twice the distance from home the other is, but it is near a NAPA store.

I needed the NAPA store for an extension to my arms. I didn’t NEED a NAPA store, but I do need that extension. Well, maybe I don’t need an extension; what I want is one of those small SwiperSweeper thingys with the tri-angular heads to do the inside the truck windows – in those hard to reach places, you see. These new gas saving aerodynamic slopes are putting those hard to reach places ever further beyond finger-tip reach.

Anyhow. I walked into this chain grocer store and the place was jumping. Hired help everywhere; filling shelves, talking with customers, and flirting. Hmm, ‘tis true, in one aisle there were three teens. Two he-males, one black and one Hispanic; and a she-male of the local religious sect. The black and the Hispanic were talking about school enrollment and the Hispanic was carrying on something fierce about not obtaining his loan monies for tuition. Really upset. Said he couldn’t get school money from the government because his mother was making too much money.

Appears he is living at home with Mom and is bitter because he cannot get the money. He can’t talk her into taking a pay cut so he could get the loan.

The Black guy and the girl who’d been listening walked away from the Hispanic who was babbling on and on about his mother making too much, and who never noticed the other two were gone with him still talking, until I reached around him to pickup some Picante Sauce. He then asked if he could help me, and if not, let him know, he’d be glad too.

I told him I thought not. I didn’t tell him he should shut-up about his mom earning too much.

Must be hard to be twenty in this day and age.

But I was talking about flirting – the Black guy and the religious girl had gone down the aisle to the bulk food cart and were doing a touchy feely things in the protection of shelf and boxes. That didn’t last long. Just enough to be aware I’d seen. Then they came back and the Hispanic started up again.

I pushed my cart on down to the sweets and treats and ice cream aisle to pick up some disposable razors. Yeah. I know. But, I only shop there, I don’t run the place. That’s the area where they keep the breads and frozen taters also.

There was a fellow there from the Little Debbie company stocking the shelves. He was comparing his present job and salary with the possible job and salary of another company and how he was thinking about it – the comparison, if acted on, would mean he was take a pay cut to go over, but he was thinking about it.

On me and my little cart went and rounded the corner to find a religious sect lady in ankle socks and little beanie pushing a loaded cart and herding four kids along the meat counter. She’d stopped by the red meat section and every butcher and butchers helper in the place was lollygagging, hanging on door frames and butt propped on display cases talking to this woman.

I settled for pork and some pre-packaged stuffed mushrooms.

*

I know – But remember!

I started this post with a pun.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Mile

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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