Getting the Kinks Out

Here's a little test. Right now, I'm sitting here in my apartment and I have to go to the supermarket. I guarantee you I'll find something there worth writing about. Here I go.

Break.

I'm back, and I have a topic: avoidance. I avoided things just now. I avoided the shithead slapdickery of this weird, foreign, out-of-state supermarket in favor of 7-11 and something to eat from a place with a drive-thru that's open late.

Why? Because I'm a guy who avoids things now. When I see a crowd, I walk the other way. If I see a line, I go home. You should see me in airports. Even if it takes me ten minutes to walk there, I'll sit at the gate that doesn't have a plane so I can avoid them. They're hell, is what they are.

So, nothing really happened because I did my best to avoid interacting with anyone who'd be irritating or stupid this late at night. I mean, I guess I could piss and moan about the jerkoff who came flying around the corner without signaling - and with his lights off - as I tried to pull out my alleyway onto a main road, but even he didn't bother me because I floored it and smoothed my way into the left lane before he affected my life or I affected his. I'm a very good driver.

Also, when you see something in a magazine or a book that doesn't look right, it's not always the writer's fault. Start doing this for pay and you'll realize how starched all this shit gets before anyone sees it.