I went to McDonald’s today and had the misfortune of standing in front of a smelly old man. Now by smelly old man I don’t mean your traditional old man with traditional old man smells like: Ben Gay, Preparation H, moth balls, Old Spice, etc. I mean smelly like pissy, musty, and haven’t seen the light of day or been aired out since Miami Vice used to be cool.
They were undermanned and only had one register open. Every time I took a step, smelly old man took about a half step with me. I swear if I had a bottle of Febreeze on me I would’ve turned around and sprayed his nasty smelling ass down.
Smelly old man pulled out a roll of $1 bills to pay for his order. Apparently he either just left the titty bar or was on his way to the titty bar. Poor strippers. Not only do they have to deal with a bunch of drunk and horny men, they have to give smelly old man a lap dance too. Talk about things that suck.
The worst part of my trip to McDonald’s was when I left. I spilled 1/3 of my fries in my car. As Florida Evans would’ve said, “Damn, damn, damn!!!” If the floor wasn’t so nasty, I would’ve eaten them bitches too. Oh well, the birds, squirrels, and other local wild life should get a cool snack.