You Should Know I’ve Killed A Lot Of Old People In My Time, And I’m Not Above Doing It Again

A while ago, I was standing in line at the pharmacy. It was moving slowly, but I was in no great rush. (I’d sneaked away from work.) I was a bit bored, so I was letting my eyes and my mind wander, just killing time.

An elderly gentleman came up behind me and took his place in line. (I was at the end.) I nodded and resumed my lollygagging.

A moment later, I looked off to my right. The aged gent had shifted and was now beside me, a couple feet away. I guess some merchandise had caught his eye. (They plan it that way, you know.) I put my brain back and neutral and vegged some more.

Then I noticed that the old codger had maneuvered in front of me, and stepped right up when the person ahead of me was finished with the pharmacist.

The lousy, ancient SOB had cut in front of me, slick as anything. And he knew exactly what he was doing — at no point would he meet my eyes.

I said a few snide things, but he was probably too old to hear it.

My only consolation was that if ObamaCare does pass, he won’t be long for this world anyway.

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