We ran to Costco for ice cream after we ate dinner out tonight. When The Talker and I were approaching the cash register with our extremely important gallon of frozen vanilla, an old woman just about elbowed me outta the way to get to the register first.
Her hurry? Getting checked out with her dozen or more bottles of wine and two boxes of rubber gloves. All I really want to know is, what the heck kind of kink is that old woman into?
On second thought, I don't really care to know. I'll just eat my ice cream and forget the whole ordeal.