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Western Oregon | Being from the same part of the state as I am, in fact you are a little closer to stupid-town than I am, you might appreciate the rest of the story of the fat chick and the finger.
Me: old ford pickup loaded with diesel and aircompressor and other crap. Probably a gun in the rack. probably listening to Lefty or something. Dog in the back.
Her: Standing outside of the local Mcminnimums (or however you spell it). Kind of lumpy chick, very short hair, little black glasses, clunky black shoes, kahkik trousers, carrying a very large coffee.
Now I bet my wife would have got a nice manly wave? Donchathink?!
Perhaps not so much the crosswalk but more of a culture clash...
The lady I was nice to was just your regular grumply middle-aged lady. She still didn't seem to appreciate it. Oh well! | |
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There is more to the story...
