It’s been a good day.
I textedLauren that I was sitting across from a truck driver that sounded like Slingblade.
I thought that this was hilarious. “Don’t reckon I gotta drive over no four-wheelers, ummm-hmmm.”
I made eye contact with him and figured out that he was all right. At some point, we talked and I found out that he drives crazy oversized loads.
He has much bigger balls than I could ever dream of having. Great guy. Well versed.
I was happy that we could exchange ideas.
And his name is, kill me, Frank.
I finished my overpriced steak and went to the counter to pay my bill.
To my right was a young woman eating lunch.
Through an exchange between my waitress and this young woman, I found out that the young woman was a restaurant employee.
I looked to my right and saw that her right arm had a rash and that she had treated it with some sort of topical medication.
The medication was white and dried while the rash was red and inflamed.
My assumption was that the rash was psoriatic and, therefore, non infectious.
I have a history of being up front and laying things out, much to the embarrassment of those close to me, as it is.
I said, “Man, doesn’t that rash on your arm hurt?”
She said, “No.”
I said, “It LOOKS like it should hurt.”
This led into a nice conversation about everything but her arm rash.
It was an insanely pleasant exchange.
She was funny, forthright, and thoughtful.
And I tipped 45% on a really crappy steak.
