deliciously white trash

I love my home town, why you ask, well let me tell you why. My car was low on gas so I pulled into a local gas station "Patriot Gas", let me pause for a sec to let that sink in, "Patriot gas." As my car is filling up I glance around and notice a man walking out of the food mart carrying three 24 oz. busch beers and a bag of ice. For a quick description of this guy he stood taller than me but could have been mistaken for a heroin addict, and i thought I was skinny. He sported his red tank top and cut off jeans with pride as he walked towards his truck, which faded from a washed out blue at the rear to an eggshell white at the front interspersed with rust spots and bad paint jobs. But the crowning acheivement of the entire truck was the hood or the lack thereof he had the ability to check the oil without propping it up, full on visible engine. The guy walked to his truck bed and opened up a fine styrafoam cooler and dumped his ice and beer in. He was nothing if not friendly though he gave me the patented nod as he puttered off. All in a day in Crescent City and my parents wonder why I want to avoid town.

p.s. while blogging this the Daily Show aired a segment on web blogs its all twilight zoney.