Went to the video store across the street from UNT to see if there was anything worth renting.  At this time of year the place gets picked over by the incoming horde of college students, but I still like this little video store better than Blockbuster.  Our local Blockbuster is located inside the Wal-Mart super center.  Getting in and out of the Wal-Mart parking lot on a Saturday afternoon is an exercise in creative avoidance.  Given my misanthropic tendencies, it’s best to avoid such antics.

I selected Big Trouble and made my way to the counter.  The clerk, a young woman of 21 or 22 (she had an “Over 21” stamp on her hand from some club but she couldn’t be much over 21), was in the back room watching a video when I approached.  I don’t think that she realized that the screen was visible from the counter, since I caught a glimpse of a hardcore porno movie before she turned it off.  I didn’t say anything about it, although I couldn’t keep a smirk off my face.  At this point I think she realized that she’d been BUSTED.  Oh well, I’m not a prude about such things.  More power to her if she wants to watch a dirty movie.  For some reason it just amused me.

Unfortunately, my amusement was short-lived.  I stopped at a local barbecue place for some lunch.  When I came out someone had thrown a bottle of milk at my truck, splashing the passenger side.  I wish I knew who had done it.  My first impulse would be to shove that bottle so far up their ass that they’d be sneezing milk for a week.  Unfortunately, all those annoying “assault” laws would get in the way (and it’s also best to avoid conflict when armed).

Bleh.  That seems to be a pattern for my life.  Whenever I find myself in a good mood about my fellow man, some goon comes along and reconfirms my latent misanthropy.