Tuesday, December 07, 2004

I Believe the Line Starts Over Here

Latigo Flint isn't going to make a big ruckus about it 'cause that's not his way, but the line starts over where Latigo Flint has been standing for the past three minutes - NOT right up front there where those two oblivious urbanites have just parked their inconsiderate asses.

Standing in defined lines is a relatively recent invention. In the old west when you visited the local trading post, you'd stand wherever you were comfortable, and everyone just kept real good track of who's turn it was next. Inconsiderate people ran the risk of being gut-shot and left to die.

Yep, Latigo Flint knew it - look at that - the instant the register was available those two yappity tinhorns rushed right up and placed their order without even a glance in Latigo Flint's direction. Like I said, Latigo Flint isn't going to make a big ruckus about it, and of course he's not going to gut-shoot and leave 'em to die... But he's sure as dang gonna give them a mighty fierce glowering.

"Yesssssss, you feel my glower don't you. It's piercing your skull and filling your mushy brain with an inexplicable sense of unease. My glower is gonna try to do a bit of damage while it's in here: Hey, you left the iron on at home. A bum is leaning against your Mercedes. Your husband is having an affair with his secretary... his MALE secretary. And your daughter is sleeping with the captain of the basketball team... No not the scrawny little white guy who sits on the bench all game long, the sleek ebony giant who can dunk the ball and has been shaving since he was 12."


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