Ya Got Any Meat?

The following is a true story. I don't have this vivid of an imagination.

After I picked up Kyle from school, I had to go to Lowe's and buy some topsoil. Last week, we had our steps and walkways redone by Superior Concrete - a terrific company, by the way - and I wanted to fill in some of the gaps between the new cement and my luscious lawn. After finding the brand I desired, I paid for the topsoil and retreated to the Wyatt-mobile.

And then it happened.

A white panel truck with the words "U.S. Beef" painted on the side pulls up to me in the parking lot. The driver is a man in his early thirties with a scruffy beard and not exactly dressed in his Sunday best. He gets my attention and - I swear to God - says:

"Hey, pal, do you like steak?"

I stopped, stunned, and then turned around to him. After seeing his less-than-professional truck and his wardrobe straight out of "Derelicte," I replied, "Um, no." The truck drove away and I placed the topsoil into my trunk before driving home in silence.

Although the drive was silent, my mind was racing as fast as the hamster on the treadmill could run. During this time, a few thoughts kept popping up into my head. First, who the hell was that guy, and why was he trying to sell meat in a parking lot? Second, did the guy really think that some idiot would buy "meat" from a strange man in a strange truck? And finally, if I was going to purchase something that "just fell off a truck," I doubt the first item up for bid would be some steaks.

Cripes, this town needs an enema.