My wife is out-of-town for the weekend so after finishing work I went to the market to pickup a few food supplies, returned home and dumped the stuff on the kitchen counter.
Were I to have any real interest in such things I would be appalled at this high calorie, nutritionally bankrupt pile of mostly junk food. (It wasn’t a total junk food run. I did purchase coffee.) After considering the coming gastronomical overload a couple of mildly disturbing thoughts come to mind: Were I forced to live alone I would soon balloon to 300 pounds and my reasonable life expectancy would plummet to months, weeks . . . possibly days.
For reasons impossible to explain because there in no explanation . . . I also bought a football.
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During the trip home, as if I didn’t have enough heart disease-inducing food piled in the seat and spilling into the floorboard, I swung through a fast food joint to pickup a little something to quell a sudden onset of the munchies. A lady with a child in tow walked across the parking lot and sat at an outside table. She removed an unopened pack of cigarettes from a pocket and began pounding the pack against her palm of her open hand. This was done several times. She then turned the pack over and beat the other end against the palm of her hand, as if punishing the smokes before they punished her. I’m not a cigarette smoker but is such pounding common? It seemed like an odd thing to do. I would have assumed cigarettes would come ready to smoke.
Now, what to fix for supper . . .
The Outdoor Notebook 