We're screwed ...

True that. Unfortunately, my traveling season is getting ready to begin.

 

A friend of mine had the starter on his car go out at a gas station and called me to get him. The gas station had decided to drum up business by selling gas at $2.87 when most the area was just over the $3 mark. You would have thought Hurricane Katrina had combined forces with the tornado that blew Dorothy's house away, the polar ice caps had completely melted and God had announced that the Apocalypse was going to descend on (insert city here), beginning with a plague of locusts and clones of Carrot Top. The line backed up across the parking lot (sometimes spilling into the busy streets that run alongside the station), people yelling at each other, cutting each other off, honking and general panic/paranoia. If you paid with cash, you had to prepay to avoid drive-offs, so the line inside the store snaked through all of the aisles. I would be surprised if the station had any gas left at the end of the day and would be equally surprised if the clerks inside hadn't gone on a three-state shooting spree after their shift ended.

 

I'd be so pissed if I waited in that line and someone got up there to order $20 worth of $1 Lotto scratch-offs, and then tried to cash a few in while they were waiting for the clerk to track down their stash.

 

Bump...

I'm not a tremendous fan of the Bluegrass Report (though I do visit it often). Still, I'll give Mark Nickolas props for this, with an assist to the AP.

www.bluegrassreport.org