i was on my way to the Super T to get some vittles for me and the cats, when i decided to gas up Ruby before the big trip to Blaine’s Blazin’ Fourth tomorrow. i stood in line patiently, behind a muscle-shirt wearing, mustache-having guy who was eating a resse’s peanut butter cup and flirting with the gas station attendant. he turned and looked at me, and then looked at me again.
“is that a superman tattoo?” he asked.
“huh?” i said, because i wasn’t paying too much attention.
“i mean,” he said. “i don’t mean to be looking at your tits, but i was. is that a superman tattoo?”
“yes, it is.”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP!” the gas station attendant shouted.
“what?” he said. “i’m a friendly guy. i just wanted to ask her about her tattoo. notice that she didn’t ask to see my tattoo.” then he turned to me. “do you want to see my tattoo?”
“that depends on where it is,” i said.
“see,” he said to the attendant girl. “she’s cautious.”
“i prefer smart,” i said.