Overthunk

It's not often one gets the opportunity to see a beating taking place outside a chain grocery store. B ut a few weeks past, before the near death experience that is driving in Plano, Texas, a compadre and I witnessed just that. As we were walking up to buy some shells and cheese or red delicious apples or the like, violence was ensuing. Down on the concrete parking lot, 3 or 4 grown white men chased, apprehended, and then held down a black teenage boy. We stood and watched for a moment, stunned. "They're gonna get themselves sued," I said. Some bystanders told us he'd been shoplifting, and we learned MUCH later, had pushed down a female employee or customer while trying to escape from the store, hence the chase. Quickly a division sprang up between my friend and I. She ran to assist the kid, and got right in the middle of it, telling the red-shirted store manager what for. I stood back, not wanting to get involved with a kid who, I thought, was making a stupid mis

That's what my class of 8 year old Junior Thugs suggested I do with the little lying carwreckin' beotch. It's really tempting to pass off her name and address with a request that their older brothers hit that crib if they need something to steal. But I shan't. I'm just gonna pretend My Name Is Earl, have faith in karmic debt, and try not to feel just bitter and a-fucked about the whole mess. Like I said, it could have been lots worse. And I gotta keep my naturally half-empty brain turned towards the full part of this glass.