an indian in a store
My friends and I love to do costume parties. Once for my Native American friend’s birthday party we dressed up as Indians (Native American not India). I went all out. Like crazy. I’m the one on the right standing up. I was most obviously costumed. On the way to the party we decided we needed to grab a disposable camera, so I decided to work up the courage to walk into a gas station and buy one. Beth refused to go in with me. It would be fun and probably cheer up the cashier. Nope! I walked in. No response. I found the camera and went to the cashier. I smiled. She raised apathetic eyes and told me the price. Is she a robot? She never smiled, raised an eyebrow, chuckled or anything. All she accomplished was making me feel a bit more awkward. Micah the Admin
who was that jerk?
I stopped at a gas station with two friends to get some coffee. While we were getting creamer and lids this dirty guy walked in. Both of my friends knew the guy but didn’t bother to introduce me. My jaw dropped as I watched this guy get his coffee. He was loud and laughing about non-interesting stuff. As he poured his coffee it sloshed all over the counter and some on the floor. He didn’t clean it up. He poured cream, it sloshed on the counter. He added sugar, it spilled on the counter and the floor. Then as he took the cup away it spilled a little more. He left in the same loud huff. I was not used to this. When we got into the car the first words out of my mouth were, “Who was that jerk?” My friend, who was driving, turned and said, “That is my brother.” I didn’t even try to recover. Micah the Admin