THIS NEVER HAPPENED.

…because I am such a decorated gourmand I was treating myself to 3$ worth of food at the Taco Bell one afternoon when I noticed two unforgivably white trash, hillbilly types ragging on their girlfriends. You know the kind; unwashed, farm raised, alpha males who were mostly knuckles and teeth. They were telling their ladies how stupid they were for ordering the wrong things, made fun of them for ordering a huge amount of food, and were more than willing to toss around their criticisms loud enough for all to hear. Pretty much anything either of these two women did commanded some form of scrutiny from their betrothed. One of these girls looked like she was about 14 and pregnant…okay fine, maybe she was 26 and obese but it was still not right the way these guys were treating them. The whole scenario was just all too uncomfortably ignorant.

Feeling emblazoned, I decided to squash this whole hillbilly brain scramble before it gained any more momentum. I resolved to stop them dead in their tracks with a quip so clever it would make them 3% smarter just by considering its meaning…

“Hey fellas, stop picking on your big fat girlfriends. They seem nice”.

How could they possibly recover from that? So witty, so double edged. Thoughtlessly, I imagined they would respond with a brainless retort. What they ended up doing was responding with hitting. Well, rather what would have most likely turned into hitting had I not bolted from the Taco Bell, across a massive parking lot and ducked into the Super Target.

I slipped swiftly through the entrance and headed straight for the women’s undergarments. I figured that if they had enough conviction to take me down amongst bras and panties then it was probably worth any resulting chaos. For no reason in particular I busied myself seeking out the largest available leopard print thong and having found this moved on to house wears. From there stumbled over to the toys. After ambling through the store for a good 20 minutes I began to realize that the coast was probably clear. I spent the next few minutes fondling sweaters, simultaneously laughing and congratulating myself on a jest well played. Goosing those dweebs kind of felt like the right thing to do. Knocking them on their ear, getting them riled up and misdirecting their anger had not only gotten under their skin, it was bound to have a retrograde effects. This would get them talking, this would get them thinking.

By the time I walked back out of that Super Target I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Imagine my state of alarm when one of the girlfriends comes out of nowhere, decks me in the jaw and shouts,

“Don’t tell our boyfriends we’re fat, you dick!”