Saturday, 15 December 2012

Your Life in a Hundred Words

As you got up this morning and walked out to your truck to drive to work.....you looked over at your neighbor standing in his driveway.  He's an odd guy who moved in six months ago....is obsessive about doing everything on a schedule, and doesn't ever say much.  You do a faint wave, but he just glares in your direction.

You drive off to Karl's Esso station and fill up.  You kind of notice an odd car at the end of the station with out-of-state tags and two guys in it.  They're just sitting there.  No action, but they are observing you and the side-door to Karl's station.  You pay and quickly leave.

As you drive forty miles to work....you have some gal who almost swipes your car as she moves from lane to lane.  Another guy is on some speed episode and seems to be out of it mentally.

As you pull into the parking lot of the company....there's Joe who got fired yesterday....just sitting in his car and looking pretty hard at the building.  He's frustrated and holds anger from yesterday.

Inside the building....there's Martin who is in a big argument with his division chief, and there's a security guy behind the boss....ready to move at a moment's order.

By late afternoon, you leave and drive back home.....stopping at Duffy's Bar-B-Q Shack.  Wanda is talking in a hostile fashion on a cellphone....likely to her ex-husband, and she's threatening him with legal action and hinting she might have some guy watching him.

You stop by the Dollar General store to pick up dogfood, and find that your old buddy from high school is hanging around the store....the guy who does meth regularly these days.  You quietly slip in, and quietly slip out.

You drive home, and push the door slowly open....looking for evidence of someone having broke in.  Nothing moved.....things appear OK.

Somehow, you survived the day.  You put down your leather shoulder bag on the table.  From the side pocket, you pull out your Walther PPK 9mm and put it by your bed.  The truth is....there were sixteen people today that you were prepared to kill, if necessary.

Somehow, you avoided all that messy stuff.  Call it luck.  Call it a blessing.  Call it karma.

Tomorrow will be a fresh new day, and potentially another sixteen guys that you may have to take down.

It's life in 2012, and you were probably better off thirty years ago when you just worried about trashy women, food poisoning, and transmission failure.

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