2:00 In The Morning At Wawa

I love going out in the middle of the night. When I go out late at night, I usually just hang out at Wal-Mart and watch the freaks that only come out when the sun is down. These folks are a special part of society that most people don't get to enjoy. Unless, of course, you are like me and take the time to go out and find them.

Tonight was an "accidental" freak encounter. I had the munchies and ran up to Wawa (similar to 7-11) during work to grab a sammich. Not a big deal, on most occasions. I completely forgot that tonight was Friday/Saturday, on Halloween weekend.

Please place your forehead on the palm of your hand now.

It started out with the 3 Stooges at the touch-screen menu, who were more baked than a batch of Betty Crocker brownies. Seriously, had I stood behind them long enough, I most certainly would've gotten a contact high. They spent AT LEAST 5 minutes trying to figure out how to work the touch-screen, then another 5 minutes deciding on what to order. I think they finally settled on a chicken sandwich...to split between the 3 of them.

I placed my order and behind me stumbled the next batch of winners. These guys were pretty drunk, but kind of the happy/annoying drunk. I can relate to that. Once I placed my order, I turned around to walk to the cashier when the "leader" proclaimed ever-so-loudly:

"HOLY SHIT! That guy's mustache is RIDICULOUS!"

(Of course, he was talking about me.)

He then proceded to compliment me on how "epic" my mustache is. Then, he asked for a picture of it.

Now, I've been complimented on my mustache before, on more than one occasion. I've had it compared to other, more famous mustaches. I've even gotten my picture taken with other mustaches. But, I have never had anyone request a picture of JUST my mustache. I was kind of flattered and creeped out at the same time. Needless to say, I obliged and he took the picture.

After I paid for my meal, I had to wait for them to prepare it. While standing in line, Snooki (from Jersy Shore) and Pocahontas walked in, along with their pimps. Both of the ladies were drunk and got into a who-has-the-most-annoying-giggle contest. I think it was a draw.

I got my food, and as I walked back out to my truck, I was rudely passed through the door by two drunk hookers. Actually, I really think they were hookers. My 2 year old son's underwear had more fabric than both of their "dresses" combined.

Tonight was a jackpot night for the freak-show. I usually have to wander Wal-Mart for a good hour to observe the kind of quality specimens that Wawa presented to me in about 15 minutes.

Say What?

Last week, I was "in charge" of monitoring a command urinalysis at my work. Fun stuff, right? Only sometimes. A guy that works in the same building, but whom I really don't know all too well, was sitting nearby and looked to be in a considerable amount of pain. I was lucky enough to eavesdrop on the following conversation between him and a concerned Chief:

Concerned Chief: Hey...guy. What's up? Is everything alright?
Guy: No, Chief. Everything is not alright.
Concerned Chief: Well, what's up, man? You look like you're hurting.
Guy: Yeah, Chief. I am. I took an extreme laxative earlier...and now I can't stop.

What the hell is an "extreme" laxative? I thought that laxatives only came in one strength. Are some stronger than others?

I later found out that "guy" ended up having an accident. A "big boy" accident.