Slowdancing in the Dark

Hey there, quesolitos! Sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long, but this whole buying/moving into a new house is very very busying stuff. It has had me tied up six ways to Sunday, no lie. Boy howdy! This house is great, and it seems to be slowly coming together very nicely. But enough about that, let's get to the good stuff...

Now you all remember my discussion of Scotty Zion, you know...Today's Elvis (who by the way mows in his costume (many eye witnesses), right? Okay, so you also remember how I made special mention of the couple slowdancing--you remember the guy with the matching sleeveless Nascar shirt and Nascar hat pulled up to show that indeed he had a mullet that was very strong and very agressive...no surprise that he sported the dirty sheat (copyright James Yasko); and his lovely wife who always kept her windbreaker on, no matter how sweaty she got. Anyway, they were dancing the night away as Scotty wailed like a gyrating Elvis-ish banshee into an amp jacked up far beyond what was necessary.

Now the next day, the most incredible woman in the world had given me the seemingly nagging task of getting our utilities turned on, and of course, that meant that I actually had to go to the city building and get our account set up. So I go and upon entering the office, the receptionist asks me to wait in the lobby (which was in fact not a lobby but a circle of chairs smack in the middle of the office...) because the woman I am meeting to get this task accomplished is with someone else (which by the way, meant she was gossipping with a fellow employee about other co-workers and wanting to "leave this da[rn] town.") Anyway, the receptionist lady, who must have been ninety, shares a desk with the Credit department--this dept. is not aptly named, because it actually means the we shut you off because you owe us so much money, you defaulting bum department. Well, as I wait, who should enter and get into the credit line, but this self-same couple who had shared that trashy and tacky moment (although in their own circumstances and on their own terms is probably a highlight in their relationship that will be remembered for a while) on the dancefloor the night before. Now he was still in his Nascar get up (still sans sleeves) and she was still a bit chilly as she was wearing her windbreaker, but this time her mom tagged along who was chilling to look at her underbite was so severe, and worse to listen to because she spoke in broken savage terms and phrases (mainly about how her daughter's husband was no good.).

Well, just as I clue in that this is indeed the same couple he gets to the front of the line in the Credit Department, where it is openly discussed that he owes several hundred dollars in back energy bills. So he compains and waves his arms motioning to various employees and after several interchanges the Credit Lady finally says firmly and loudly enough for all to hear: "You will have to produce $71.25 today or there is nothing we can do." Now, bear in mind, that she really had done all she could do--she was allowing him to pay less than a fifth of what he actually owed, and turning his power back on.

So what does Nascar do?

Pay?

Noooo....he motions for windbreaker and Hagrid (his mother -in-law) to get up and get headed to the door, as he announced loudly and in no uncertain terms that "Mannn/...this place is bull-[puckey]!" After flailing his arms angrily at the credit lady, he left cursing as he walked dragging windbreaker and Hagrid in tow and in conversation about how terrible he was.

Now, this made me think? Was it indeed bullpuckey? Was it bull that he should have to pay a fifth of his well over-tardy bill in order to receive even more energy that he will continue to default on? I say no. Nascar may have been angry, but he was not right. He had simply misjudged the situations ultimate fairness. He should also quit eating out if his lights have been shut off.

God save the Cheese.