more guns, hookers, Berlitz and 40s

If you ever have the occasion to fillerup at Tony's Neighborhood Groceries/Valero, please remember to do it between the hours of 7:30 a.m. and 5:40 p.m., sunrise and sunset. It's easy to remember - it's the opposite of when Dracula can be out.

Tony's is basically a Stop-n-Rob. Located at N Fitzhugh and Gaston and catty corner to Brother's Chicken (really), it is near enough my house I have to take a little pride in the fact is MY gas station. Price per gallon is usually a nickel less than other nearby pumps. Regular patrons include many personages of the multilingual flavor, prostitutes, gangstas, homeless vets -- a veritable social cornucopia, a demographic melange if you will.

When standing outside pumping my gas and listening to parking lot conversation, I routinely lock my empty car. If the boys are in tow, I lock them in and keep my thumb on the fob's alarm button. I don't do it because I'm Nervous Nellie, but because I know buying there is a calculated safety risk. If my windshield is REALLY dirty, however, I will swat at it w/ the squeegee thingy. I'm being modest. I do take the time to do an excellent job on the front windshield, actually. I don't leave lines of wet scumdirtdebris. That would be unacceptable. I'm not anal about much, but that is one of my few analities. Spell check just had a pulmonary embolism.

Overheard during this morning's fill up: Prostite 1 to prostitute 2: "Hun, you better pick up that money you just dropped, and tell that one (pointing to prostitute 3) happy birthday!" They clearly belonged to a union and looked out for one another. Personally, I love birthdays and was tempted to wish the over-tanned, hard looking, fancily dressed lady a happy birthday myself. Just imagine how giddy I was knowing we are both Capricorns. Does that mean we possibly have similar horoscopes and destinies? -- things to ponder along with the falling Dow, housing market slump and those ladies' impossibly stilettoed heels.

I have never needed to buy groceries from Tony's, although I once bought 20 bags of ice for our neighborhood's home tour; it seemed right to buy local. Not one to eat chili lime flavored beef jerky or buy a 40 of Country Club to drink from a brown bag with a handful of Cheerios in the comfort of the driver's seat while driving the 2.5 blocks to my house, I would be happy to check out their array of candy offerings if I were hard up for a sugar laden fat fix.

The day after New Year's Eve, commonly referred to as New Year's Day, Lawson found a stubby bullet in the bed of the Tacoma. There had been much ordnance driven rejoicing throughout the land the evening before, and those bap-bap-bap celebrations customarily come in 6s in this zipcode. Luckily, we found it where we did rather than in one of our cats' skulls.

If I were a Fitzhugh hooker, I'd bet my daily net that random, single bullet was fired out of a gun from the Tony's parking lot. Wurd.