Driving to work never takes very long, but today's trip was especially brief. I seemed to be hitting all the lights just right, nobody was getting in my way or slowing me down. The Traffic Gods were smiling upon me. Little did I know their smile was more devious than I originally realized because it seems that my especially quick drive was propelling me towards an image that would assualt my eyes and scar my mind.
The moment I entered the pawn shop, the first thing I saw was a large man whose was pulling his shirt halfway up his back so he could scratch his back. I've noticed that this method of unnecessarily removing half of one's shirt to scratch one's back while in public is becoming a common practice. Why, I may never know, but most people at least have underwear covering the portions of their body that should be covered. This man, however, did not, and several inches of his flabby, stretchmarked, hairy buttcrack was showing. Thank you sir, and thank you Traffic Gods. If you had only given me one single, measly red light, I would have missed that unsightly image! Why me?! Why?!
Perhaps this is a lesson The Traffic Gods wish to teach me, that they sometimes send red lights to diverse drivers for a purpose--keeping them from seeing disgusting buttcracks first thing in the morning, for instance. Lesson learned. The next time I find myself frustrated by having to stop for a red light, I will think of this and wonder in awe at what The Traffic Gods may be protecting me from this time.
I may not work at a pawn shop but I feel your pain. Josh's buttcrack is always hanging out and that is never a pleasant experience.
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