Fresco Fiasco
March 18, 2006 by Douglas · Leave a Comment
It came to be that I was very thirsty to which only one beverage could quench. I needed beer, stat!
In my haste darting through the store I made my way through the meat department. Meat Market indeed, with fine young women discussing the proper handling of bone-in cuts. When the overheard conversations moved to basting of their breasts I moved forward – only to be mistaken as fleeing the scene by the butcher. Perhaps one of these ladies was his significant other?
I maneuvered into the snack aisle where he cornered me, gave me a punch, chipped a tooth and I kicked him in the nuts. I climbed over the shelves into the baking section only to be nabbed again and pinned against the seasonings – I was assaulted mercilessly. One nice punch to the breadbasket let me get away into the produce section, which was well known to be the seediest part of the store. Butcher-boy wouldn’t follow – he knew this is where I would find my roots.
It was when I reached the deli that I was cured of any lingering fears of my assailant – this little slice of heaven was within eyesight of the amber waves of grain. Beer, straight ahead. Soon it was in my grasp – and after my previous fight, my six-pack was exposed… likely this is why the gal at the counter was checking me out. She took my money and I left the store, ready to consume my newly acquired beverages – when the butcher in his 2004 Gallant struck me.
He wanted a rematch right then and there – having been hit by the car, I was too tired.
