Dirtbag

At the corner in front of the hardware store, waiting for my sister to meet me. Little duder comes up, grabs a 10 lb bag of potting soil, looks at me all shifty and books it down the street. I step around the corner to watch him, I want to make sure I just sawed what I just seed. He's doing the "What? Steal? Me?" perp walk and tucking his iPod earbuds into his tiny little ears. Fucking dick. You have enough money for a $250 dollar listening device but you can't pay $6.99 for a bag of dirt? If you were stealing food I could at least rationalize that you were hungry or homeless maybe. A DVD and I could pretend you were a junkie who was going to resell or return it for dope money. But DIRT? No one needs to steal dirt. The family that owns that store is nice. They have an 18 year old son that flirts with me when he makes my keys. WILL I GET THAT KIND OF SERVICE AT HOME DEPOT? I don't think so. But that's all I have if you keep it up. I hope your geraniums grow so tall they block your space heater and you die of carbon monoxide poisoning in your sleep.