My town was throwing a Columbus Day festival this weekend, which included a fireworks show for tonight.  Since I either hated everybody in town or they hated me, I avoided it like the plague.  I still got a chance to see the fireworks though since I was on the second floor and I was able to get a good view of it from my window.

It also gave me a good view of the drug dealers on the street too.

So here I am, just trying to mind my own business and enjoy the fireworks in peace, and there’s a crime in progress happening right underneath me.  God in heaven do I hate this town.

I watched the two scumbag dealers as they got into their black ride and tossed a few bags of “white powder” around, the door and headlights on in the dark of night so all the world could see what a bunch of schmucks they were.  They were getting ready to stoke a few up after what I guess must have been a good night for them, festival and all.

Hmmmmmmmmmm… 

I dialed 911.

“Yeah there’s a couple of guys hashing it up on the apartment grounds here, and I was wondering if you could send somebody over to go ruin their night?”  I gave the operator the location.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Oh my name?  Sure my name is-”  I hung up.

I waited a few minutes, and eventually decided the cops weren’t going to do anything when a patrol car suddenly pulled up next to the dealers’ car.

What ensued afterwards turned out to be 10 times more fun to watch than the fireworks. 

I decided to shed some of the books I own as I prepare myself for a life on the run on the road, so I stopped by my local library to donate them.

I walked in and approached one of the clerks at the reception desk.

“I would like to donate these books please,”  I said with my broad, winning smile.

The haggish looking clerk took one look at them and said, “Sorry, we’re only accepting certain books, and we won’t need any of these here.”

“But… I have books on Abraham Lincoln!  And some really great books on the law too.  Don’t you want the patrons here to learn more about the law??  And lookie here, a beautiful vintage 1828 Webster’s Dictionary!  Wouldn’t that be awesome for your collection??”

She glanced at it.  “That’s a big dictionary, but we have enough dictionaries here.  Sorry!”

I grumbled as I picked up my stack of books.  Oh well, not a big deal, I’ll just drive to another library in a nearby town and donate it there.

20 minutes later…

I walked in with my stack of books to the reception desk.  “I would like to donate these books, please.”  Another winning smile. 

“Sorry, we’re not accepting donations right now.”

Again another song and dance about how valuable my books were and how important it is that people learn about the life of Abraham Lincoln and frick it man can’t you just take my #%^$ books anyway?? But still no dice.  Oh well, on to the next library.

20 miles later…

I walked into a quaint, little library happily whistling the tune to the Andrew Griffith Show, only this time I walked right past the reception area and sat down at a table near the reference section.  I had my books in my bag, so I took them out and placed them neatly on the desk.  I then got up, smiled my ever winning smile one more time… and left.

Mission accomplished.    Now with that out of the way, I can focus on winnowing down my stuffed animals collection.  Anybody here want one of my teddy bears?