Two very hickey, country-music-listening, skoal-spitting, dusty-hat-donning, boot-wearing, pickup-truck-driving locals are in front of me buying some chips and salsa.
I try not to eavesdrop on conversations around me, but I find myself doing it more here than ever before.
Here's what I heard on this particular occassion:
Hick 1 - "...buddy, you'll git yer head blow'd off fer doin' sumtin' like that."
Hick 2 - "No way."
Hick 1 - "You 'member that scene in that movie...you were jus' like in that movie, sheeeut, that was funny..."
Hick 2 - "What movie?"
Hick 1 - "You know, that funny one, with those dudes from that funny a*s tv show..."
Hick 2 - "The menace one?"
Hick 1 - "That's it..the menace one...what the heck was it called?"
They ponder while paying for their snack food.
Hick 1 - "Don't be a Menace..."
Hick 2 - [finishes] "...to South Central while drinkin' yer Juice in the Hood."
They both chuckle and start recalling their favorite parts of the film as they leave the line and head for their idling pickup in the parking lot.
1300 miles, almost 10 years and many credits later, and a low budget movie I worked on comes back to haunt me in the form of two Okies in a line at WalMart.
Life is a joy to behold at times.