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"The Color of My Neck"
posted March 13, 2006 @10:15p
So there I am, in a strip club parking lot, with a car that won't start, blinded by the bright headlights of a truck headed straight for me.

It's so nice to be back home.

My car just broke down again, this time in a horrible storm with tornado warnings. And though I've become pretty used to walking (having walked about 12 miles in the past two days due to my car), a friend was available to pick me up. Tell him thanks for me.

Anyway, back to the story.

I was at Wal-Mart earlier this evening. I wanted to pick up "Walk The Line," that new flavor of Sun Chips, and a case of Squirt. Walking through the grocery store section (it was a Super Wal-Mart), I had my mobile phone out and flipped open, browsing the internet, sending a text message or something.

I'm passing by a couple of guys, not paying any attention. In fact, I didn't even notice them at all until I realized one had said something as we passed each other. And I didn't realize until about 15 seconds after the fact.

I'm not gonna say the word he spoke, I'm not comfortable with it. I'll tell you that it's used in a derogatory manner towards homosexuals, it starts with an "f," and it rhymes with the larvae of a fly. I'll use that term as a replacement.

I'm typing on my phone, and it registers: one of the two guys said "maggot" as he passed.

Was he just saying that word for no reason, or was he calling me that?

So I turn around to... well, I'm not sure. I just wanted to see if they were looking my way, I guess. I really don't know.

They were about ten yards behind me, and sure enough, the perpetrator had turned around too, and was looking at me with the stink eye.

I looked back at him with my best stink eye, realized how absolutely ridiculous the situation was, laughed in his face, then went back to my phone.

But then I got curious. Did he really think I was gay? Or was he just looking for trouble? If he thought I was gay, then he was unfortunately mistaken. And if he wanted to fight, he was looking in the wrong place. I've not been in a fist fight since 1987, and that one wasn't even a real one...

It was rumored that I beat up the biggest kid in school, but I never even touched him... I never denied the rumor. I never confirmed it either. I wanted the legend to live on...

So what were this guy's intentions?

It had been about a minute... and... for some reason, I decided I'd find these two guys and ask the name-caller some questions about his maggot mouth.

I couldn't catch up though, but I did see them going out the door. So I went outside to catch up with them in the parking lot. I was too slow again though, they were already getting in their truck to leave.

So in standard idiotic fashion, I decided to jump in my car and... maybe see where they were headed.

...Yeah, I followed them...

We left Wal-Mart, and hopped right up on the freeway. We weren't there for long though. They took the next exit, then took a right off the main road.

I'd been on this practically-deserted road before, and knew where they were headed. The only place on that road that two guys would be going to at that time of night is the strip club.

But why was I still following them?

I have no idea.

As we got closer to the strip club, they turned into it's parking lot. Yeah, I was right. But I didn't turn in, I just kept driving. By that time, was he even going to remember what he called me?

Probably. And I'll tell you why.

Here's what happened: old back-country Joe thought I was purty. His feelings angered him, so he decided it was my fault. "Maggot," he called me. He was trying to pass the heat. Then, bent on canceling out his feelings for me, he drove straight to the nearest strip club.


But then I thought, "I've driven all the way out here... let's see if they've gotten out of their man-truck yet. Maybe I can talk to them now."

So I pull a U-turn, then turn into the strip club's parking lot. As I do, I run through a HUGE puddle and my car dies immediately.

My car's first reaction is always panic. Always.

I try and try to crank it back up, but it's not happening.

Now how in the world are any of my friends gonna believe that I've "accidentally" wandered onto this back road, and that my car just "happened" to break down exactly at the strip club?

As I'm asking myself that question, the whole inside of my car lights up. The light is from an oncoming vehicle, and it looks like it's heading for my driver's side door.

You guessed it - the maggot boys are coming.

So there I am, in a strip club parking lot, with a car that won't start, blinded by the bright headlights of a truck headed straight for me.

Not only am I in the middle of nowhere in a storm, but my car won't start, and I'm about to be attacked by two angry boys that think I'm purty.

Pretty great.

Defeated, I try one last time to start my car. This time, it works. I escape quite narrowly.

It was pretty out-of-character for me to be even barely interested in what was behind his slander. It was even more out-of-character for me to follow those guys. And then for me to pull into the parking lot of a strip club was pretty much ridiculous.

I think I learned another valuable lesson tonight though: always wear a trucker hat to Wal-Mart, preferably one that has "Boob Inspector" stamped on it.


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