The grocery store in Jerkwater Junction has a strict code of ethics and conduct which doesn’t extend to out-of -date milk and the shelf life of meats and meat byproducts. A malodorous place with small, narrow aisles and a surly, nine-fingered butcher who spews out profanity from behind his blood-strewn counter as he wields a vicious meat cleaver with total autonomy.
I recently made my monthly sojourn into this establishment to stock up on Fig Newtons and Nyquil. I saw the sign pictured above and registered a complaint with the clerk, as I often go shirtless and barefoot while grocery shopping. I paid for my purchase and explained to her, as clearly as I could, that the human body is a beautiful thing and should be displayed and celebrated.
As we spoke, I was soon aware that she knew my thoughts before I did. She stood there dissecting my words with a straight razor, her unblinking eyes bored holes into my soul as she lazily leafed through the latest edition of The National Enquirer. Without a word, she pointed outside to a group of misshapen women standing on the cracked and broken sidewalks of Hometown Amërïkä, and shot me an expression which made me feel small and insignificant and utterly defeated.
Now I understand fully why bikinis are not allowed in the Jerkwater Junction grocery store, and from here forward, will try to remember my shirt and shoes.
Now Jerkwater is a little before Bumfuk...but not as far as Uppacreek...as I recall. But definitely not in the Brokenpaddle territory. Always carry some dry socks...and a spare T-shirt isn't a bad idea either.
ReplyDeleteAnd clearly just a tad more right wing than Pig's Knuckle . . . 'know your station life' lesson #76a
ReplyDeleteOur little slice of heaven is the quintessential "jerkwater" town. In steam locomotive days, a jerkwater line was a shoddy little railroad where many stops had no water tower and water had to be carried (jerked) to the engine in buckets. Our town now sits in a low spot that used to be a swamp before it was drained, just right for jerking. The whole place still floods horribly during heavy rains. There is a road, not far from the compound, that still bears the name of our glorious past, and I shall endeavor to provide proof in a future, exiting post. ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
ReplyDeleteBumfuk, Uppacreek and Pig's Knuckle are all a bit more cosmopolitan than our fair town.
Fuck man, brilliant bit of historical ejamakayshun there for sure Herm, love it. This is why I love trivia.
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