At the Shell Station

I'm coming home from a long week, and I stop by the local Shell station for a couple of tall boys. There's a kid that works there, his name is Moe. I like the guy well enough for having only known him through commercial transactions such as the above. So to vary up the usual "how's it going" pleasantry, I say, "How they treatin' you man?" And tripping off his tongue without a pause, he replies, "Like a slave."

Happy Weekend.