I woke up Thanksgiving morning to the sweet smell of- nothing, and the sounds of- nothing. Suddenly I felt the urge to rejoice. Could it be? Could today my wish of not eating turkey on Thanksgiving be granted?
Then my phone started going off. “We” have to cook and it has to be ready by noon.
I don’t mind eating like a schizophrenic, cooking like one though… Yeah, I have a problem with that.
First item on my list, Tequila and every Liquor store was closed, except Walmart.
“Excuse me? Where’s the alcohol? I asked.
“It’s by the pharmacy,” a staff member answered.
Me, “Yeah, it’s not that type of pain.”
He had no idea what I was looking for, but in a matter of seconds Santa’s helpers filtered through the isles to point me in the right direction-out of state because Walmart did not have alcohol at this location.
Aztk Princss by Shiloh Hunter
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