Another Hammond moment
I come out of the Office Depot, having spent a good half-hour in there. It's two p.m. and we're already at 96. No telling how hot it was in the parking lot. When I get to my car to deposit what I'd bought (some book shelf brackets), I see that some idiot in a jalopy has parked in the space in front of my car, with said jalopy literally jammed right up against the front of mine. The driver had even crossed about a foot over the line to press her car's bumper right in my car's grill. I was sure there'd be scratches.
I see a moth-eaten woman in her forties in the passenger seat and two kids in the back. The windows are down. "Ma'am, would you like to explain this?" I asked, gesturing to the point where our cars were pressed together in a chrome smooch.
"I don't know. There weren't no car there when we parked there!" she said, after inspecting the hookup site long enough to think of this genius response.
Then the daughter arrived, to get in the passenger side. She came from the CVS with a prescription bag. The mom told her what I'd discovered. "Uuuuuh. Your care wasn't there when we got there," the daughter said.
Wait a minute. I'm supposed to believe she left her mother and her two kids in a hot car for over half an hour? And all she comes out of the CVS with at 2 p.m. on a weekday is a single white bag of pills?
Thank God there were no scratches on my front bumper. But, more important, thank God for another Hammond moment and another chance to marvel at 75 IQ thinking.
Later this cute little bespectacled girl working at Books-a-Million told me she hadn't sold one copy of Ann Coulter's book Godless. But I'd imagine the Hammond Books-a-million seldom sells books that aren't by Joyce Meyer, John Hagee or Rick Warren.
I see a moth-eaten woman in her forties in the passenger seat and two kids in the back. The windows are down. "Ma'am, would you like to explain this?" I asked, gesturing to the point where our cars were pressed together in a chrome smooch.
"I don't know. There weren't no car there when we parked there!" she said, after inspecting the hookup site long enough to think of this genius response.
Then the daughter arrived, to get in the passenger side. She came from the CVS with a prescription bag. The mom told her what I'd discovered. "Uuuuuh. Your care wasn't there when we got there," the daughter said.
Wait a minute. I'm supposed to believe she left her mother and her two kids in a hot car for over half an hour? And all she comes out of the CVS with at 2 p.m. on a weekday is a single white bag of pills?
Thank God there were no scratches on my front bumper. But, more important, thank God for another Hammond moment and another chance to marvel at 75 IQ thinking.
Later this cute little bespectacled girl working at Books-a-Million told me she hadn't sold one copy of Ann Coulter's book Godless. But I'd imagine the Hammond Books-a-million seldom sells books that aren't by Joyce Meyer, John Hagee or Rick Warren.