May 24, 2006
Opinion: C'mon and Sell Me This Beer
An Editorial by John GladeUniversity of New Mexico Class of 2008
Hey man, how’s it goin’. God, it’s been hot as hell lately. I’m working this construction gig with a few buddies of mine, and I swear it hits 90 degrees before lunch time. I could sure go for a few cold ones later tonight to ease my lower back. I used to play varsity ball in high school, so I’ve already got arthritis in my joints.
Where’s my ID? Oh, it’s out in the truck. I’ll be back in a sec—oh shit. This is goddamn ridiculous. I left my wallet in my lunch pail back at the job site. This always happens to me! Dude, I’m sorry about this—I realize you got to follow the rules, and I don’t want to cause any trouble.
But I’ll tell you what, man. I’ve got a $20 on me, and this twelve pack of Bud is only $8.99. How about I just leave the change? I know what you’re thinking—this kid’s trying to pull a fast one. Honestly though, I’m 29 this August, and it’s just my cheeks that make me look young. Maybe I should grow a beard. Comes in pretty thick around my neck, you should see it when I run out of razors. None of that peach fuzz bullshit, no sir.
Go ahead and ring that lady up, we can keep talkin’. You own this place? I’ve always thought of getting into the grocery business—you know, setting some money aside and buying a mom-and-pop sort of joint. Milk, bread, beer, stuff like that. I’m already thinking about retirement. 401K’s, that sort of thing. Late twenties is when you got to start planning ahead.
A favor? Follow you in the freezer? Uh, I should probably get back to work. I don’t want my boss to have an aneurism, he gets loopy by mid-day if we get off-schedule. Thanks anyway, man. I’ll just leave this twenty here on the counter. No harm, no foul.
The cops? Yeah, I can put the beer back. No problem, amigo—I don’t want any trouble. Just a simple misunderstanding, that’s all. Geez, I’m too old for that sort of thing.
