WWUD

Okay, I stopped to get gas around 11:30 am. I was blissfully in my own universe, oblivious to anything other than when my tank would be full so I could move on to my next adventure. I was rudely stirred out of my fog by calls of 'help me, help me'. Since I fancy myself as a sort of mild mannered superhero, I cannot ignore such calls.

I looked around to see a woman parked to the side of the lot in an suv with her windows rolled down. I began to walk towards her car when she said again, 'help me, I'm drunk!'

#@%&*. I'm already committed to help the poor sot because I walked halfway across the lot. I can't now turn around because she's drunk. So, I walk up to the open window and ask her what's going on.

First she tells me her hands are sticky, and she doesn't know what to do. I immediately tell her to crank up the car and get home. She should be at home or out in a night club, not in the gas station parking lot. She was wasting her good time! There are children around, for goodness sakes. She should be a good example for them by driving herself home!

Well, she didn't want to drive and just kept complaining about her sticky hands. I walked all the way back to my car to get her some wet wipes, hoping that was all she required from my superheroness. After giving her the wipes, she was surprised they were wet. Drunk people are so cute. Especially when they are over 60, overweight and haven't washed their hair in over a week. She still doesn't want to leave. Finally, I offer to buy her a cup of coffee. She agrees that she could use some coffee. After all she has a half  bottle of bourbon left and needs something to mix it with!



I left her with the coffee and the bourbon, hoping she would finish it off and finally head home. Superhero duty done for the day - it's a tough job being a mild-mannered superhero!



Fog Piles