My father dragged me through the place for 45 minutes. As we were checking out, I saw a man, a midget or a dwarf, carrying a can of Heineken that was at least a foot tall. I did a double-take. Then a triple-take. Was this an acid flashback? A cruel joke? I fled the store in terror and cowered outside until my father finished his shopping. In a bitter twist of fate, I had to go directly from CostCo to the DMV to get a new driver's license. Forever after the look of fear on my face was imortalized on my ID.
I was reminded of the incident because I started school today. (Oddly enough, school started yesterday and I forgot to go. So I started today instead.) In my novel-writing class is a girl who was in one of my classes last semester. I really like her, she's a nice girl a fine writer, but I spent the entire last semester worrying that perhaps I was losing my mind and up was down, black was white and the world was not as it seemed. Why, you ask? Because she has the most enormous breasts I have ever seen, and tends to wear t-shirts with tiny "baby" pockets on them. The pockets are about an inch and half across and seem to distort my view of her breasts, and the world as a whole.
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