I was walking around in Mervyns… You know, the average American family store that was bought you by Kole’s, or they went bankrupt, I’m not sure. It’s a pretty familiar store too me because I’ve been shopping there since I was a kid. It was never chic or hip, but that had good durable clothing, the kind that my dad used to wear when he was fishing or working on the car.

So, I come upon a sales clerk and I ask him, “Will you shred my wallet for me?” He assures me that they don’t have any such service. Now, this wallet is pretty new. I’ve only owned it for a little over a year, and buying it was a very big deal because I had the previous wallet for about 18 years. Yes, it was old. Yes, it was falling apart. It was made of brown leather and it said Harley Davidson on it. It actually had holes in it and I’d re-stitched it more than once to keep things from falling out of it. Don’t ask me why I kept it for so long, but I did. The fact that I’m actually asking this guy to shred my new wallet is odd, but what’s more odd is that I want him to shred it’s contents as well; driver’s license, credit cards, you name it. I have to do a little convincing but I finally get him to agree and I hand him my wallet and he walks off.

I’m walking around trying on clothes and it doesn’t take me long to realize that I don’t have any money to buy anything because I’ve just given my entire and wallet complete with contents to a sales clerk. I decide to leave but walk over to the cash register just in time to see the cashier pushing my wallet thru this massive shredder that looks like the end/beginning of an escalator. Sho’ nuf, the wallet goes right thru and it shred into a bazillion pieces. Here’s where I just go off the deep end. Just for kicks, I start screaming at the cashier, waving my arms and pounding on the counter, telling him what an imbecile he is for shredding my wallet and berating him for having no intelligence, and “How could anyone be so stupid to shred someone’s wallet?” He’s really nervous at this point, probably ready to pee himself, but he’s able to squeak out, “There’s a security camera and the guard will be arriving shortly.” I take this as a signal to end my charade and leave the store, exit stage right.

When I get out to the parking lot, I realize that my truck is parked REALLY far away. So, I start running as fast as I can, not because I’m running from anything, but simply because I have this huge amount of energy to burn. I’m sprinting thru this parking lot and I’m running up on ramps and dodging people, looking out for cars, and enjoying this freedom and strength that I have. I see my truck up in the distance…