pdb: see, if I ever run a company, I’m gonna make at least one slacker hipster sit on the product review team
pdb: if he starts snickering at a design, another guy finds out why
Whitebread: Are you calling me a slacker hipster?
pdb: good god no
pdb: you’re the least hip person I know
pdb: Mr I didn’t know Dougie Hauser was gay
Whitebread: This did not go in the direction I had hoped
Archive for the 'Conversations' Category
(Whitebread is doing church secretary stuff when he is summoned to the front window of the office by a coworker. Two trucks have pulled into the overflow parking of the church, and young men are scurrying back and forth out of sight in the woods. Curious but not really expecting misbehavior, Whitebread saunters out to see what they’re up to. When the young men see Whitebread exit the church, they all pile into one of the trucks, so that there are four of them in the bed of the vehicle, with two to four of them in the extended cab. Whitebread waves and hails them.)
Whitebread: Hey, fellas! Y’all staying warm today?
Young man in bed: We’re tryin’, man!
Whitebread: So whatchy’all doin’ out here in the cold?
Driver: We’re getting some snow in some buckets, and we’re gonna go fuck someone up.
(Whitebread is taken aback by the change in tone, and is momentarily caught speechless. The moment passes.)
Whitebread: Well uh, you guys don’t need to be doing that from here. This is private property and you’ll need to be moving on.
Driver: Well, that’s not very church-like.
Whitebread (doing his best Clint Smith thumbs-up): Well, I’m not a real church-like kinda guy.
Whitebread: So, y’all get lost, or I call the police.
(At this point, Whitebread realizes that he’s in a rather exposed place. He backpedals casually, knowing that after about three strides he will have put a tree between himself and the grill of the occupied truck.)
Driver: Sure, we’ll leave… right after we kick your ass!
Two thoughts enter Whitebread’s mind: “Get some.” and “Disparity of force.” He has the presence of mind not to vocalize either of those thoughts, but unzips his jacket, to make access to his pistol easier if anyone decides to get uppity.
While Whitebread is thinking these thoughts, the truck is put in gear, turns, and exits the parking lot. Whitebread counts one middle finger from the driver’s window, and three from the bed of the truck. He wants to shout, “Hey, guys, you missed a step in your plan!” but knows better.
As he watches them leave, the realization sets in… they left their other truck! Whitebread gets on the horn with the local Po-Po, who arrive after about eight minutes (when seconds count…). Officer Friendly is briefed on the situation and threatening statements that were made, and offers to hang out for a while and have an earnest conversation with them when they come back for their vehicle.
Whitebread makes it a point to look out the front window every five minutes or so. After nearly an hour, he finds that both the cop car and the truck are gone.
It’s unlikely that he happened to leave and then they happened to come back. Either they came back and he confronted them, or they had to wait in hiding for him to leave, and then come back for their truck and scamper off. Either outcome is awesome. Idiots get inconvenienced, and Whitebread doesn’t have to shoot any of them. Life is good.)