When Rednecks Attack! When Rednecks Attack!
I shouldn't be enjoying this, I know, but good old Schadenfreude just can't be beat sometimes.
OK, so I was in the local supergiganticeverythingstore to get some medicine for my, how shall we say it?, "twitchy" stomach of the last few days, when, as I strolled to the U-Scans, I noticed a loud commotion. People were either walking away very quickly or frozen in their tracks. You see, the porky redneck mother was screaming at the bad dye job cheap makeup redneck in charge of the 4 U-Scans. I have no idea what it was actually about, all I could hear was their full-volume name-calling. I have never seen that busy store ever slow down except for then. Were people expecting blows? Some girl-on-girl wrestling? Who knows? "Shut up, you bitch!" "What did you call me? You're supposed to be nice to the customers!" "Not if you're nasty first!" And those are the repeatable parts. As things settled down everyone in the store--clerks and customers alike--tried to be super-courteous to each other. We were either modeling good behavior or feeling guilty for enjoying someone else's altercation.