Time to go

So there I was, chomping on a cheeseburger and fries, reading the paper, slowly killing myself with bad news and McDonalds beef fat. Something I do every couple of weeks for some reason. Guilty pleasure maybe, but I tend to think it's just a bad habit. Anyway, I got a visit from the mint lady just as I was sitting down. I took a mint, said 'Thanks' and started my downward spiral. I read about the Austrian ski team fiasco, the UAE port management uproar, and a few other big nothings. I wasn't even into my second cup of coke when the mint lady stopped back. At first, I think, 'What, you got some new product in your basket?' But luckily my second thought was 'Oh, senior citizen.' So I took another mint. I actually wondered if it might be a signal to clear out, like the lights flickering at closing time. That's me in a nutshell. I probably could've tried to say something funny, or struck up a conversation, but I was there for a purpose. And no mint-pushing grandmother was going to pull me out of my tailspin. So I have an extra mint in my coat pocket now. I'll think I'll save it for the next time; maybe she'll laugh if I put it in her basket when she swings by.