I set my chocolate milk in front of the clerk. A dude about 50, sleeves rolled up, he had the rippling muscles and swollen, rough hands of a laborer.
“Anything else, my friend?”
I was thinking he wasn’t my friend.
“Uh, a pack of camels.”
“One hump or two?”
He smiled disarmingly, his upper lip raised above an uneven row of three or four brown teeth. His joke was like an annoying song you can’t get out of your head. Except such songs fade in a day or two; I knew this joke would be with me forever.
“Anything else, my friend?”
I was thinking he wasn’t my friend.
“Uh, a pack of camels.”
“One hump or two?”
He smiled disarmingly, his upper lip raised above an uneven row of three or four brown teeth. His joke was like an annoying song you can’t get out of your head. Except such songs fade in a day or two; I knew this joke would be with me forever.
