Up until that moment I was feeling fine. I had gotten up early. I knocked out four pages that I felt were adequate and was considering asking my wife out to breakfast when that girl, with fourteen visible piercings, moved me one step closer to deaths door.
Having no bases to compare with what I look like normally how could she possibly know if this was a good day or not.
I signed the credit card slip and headed to the mens room hoping the mirror would give a fair appraisal of the possibility I might not make it back to my car.
It turned out the mirror was cracked and so dirty Matt Damon would have looked bad in it. I left the restroom still in doubt of my chance at longevity and decided if my demise was eminent I would go out with Butterfinger Bar crumbs on my shirt. I approached Miss Holes in the head's counter and realized her eyes were focused below my belt line. it wasn't until I got into the car I realized my fly was open. I have to find a different gas station before the needle hits "E:.
