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You’ve all been there; at least those of you who grocery shop. I grocery shop. Not because I am a good and thoughtful husband; that ended after my first year of marriage. And no, not because I am forced to grocery shop, but because…now listen all you gentlemen…because that is where the young ladies are. The grocery store is full of attractive young ladies who grocery shop.

I’m remined of my high school days. I wasn’t a “jock”, in fact, far from a jock. I did actually wear a jock strap in gym class…under silent protest. Anyway, I got a “B” in jock strap-wearing, while all the real certified jocks got “A’s” and wore size extra-large, the same size I wore. I should note, those things are way too small. I could never understand why they required actual running on the track team. In my opinion, running is for hikers being chased by wildlife, criminals who just robbed a 7-11, and the obese police who have to chase them. So, my point is this: in high school I sacrificed being a jock and rode in the Pep Bus…along with the cheerleaders in very short skirts and tight sweaters and very nice pompoms. The jocks rode on a different bus with pimply, hairy, smelly, belching jocks in jock straps. You tell me who the real stud was. I smelled like Prince Machiavelli Wind Song; the jocks smelled like…you guessed it…my jock strap.

So back to the grocery store…just talking about track and jock straps is disgusting me.

I am a rebel. No, really…I mean a Marlon Brando, James Dean kind of REBEL. The proof, you ask? I have proof. At the grocery store I have actually defied the IGRs (International Grocery Store Rules as passed unanimously by the UN Sercurity Council). I intentionally walk down the aisles the WRONG WAY! Not just one aisle; numerous aisles. You know, those arrows on the floor that tell you to only go one direction? I go BOTH ways (well, I do not go both ways in everything). How is that for insurrection? I know…daring and defiant. And get this: just yesterday I checked out a full basket of groceries in the EXPRESS LINE! That’s right…the sign says “15 Items or Less”, and I checked out in the Express Line with twenty-seven items! And I did so while ten people stood in another, non-Express Line glaring at me.

I heard one aside to another, “Look at him. He has twenty-seven items. Some people have no shame. What a criminal.”

“He doesn’t look like a criminal,” replied the nice little old lady. “He’s nicely dressed and looks clean. And he is wearing a mask.”

“He should be in jail. I suppose he walked the wrong way down the aisle, too.”

“Do you think so?” exclaimed the nice little old lady. “I guess you’re right. In that case he should be in jail.”

The threat of jail does not instill fear. In fact, I am considering not wearing my mask while alone in my car driving down the interstate at 5 MPH over the limit. Hey, I am a rebel. There are no limits to rebellion.

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