Streak-O-Lean

Steak-O-Lean Part 7: A Pint of Fighting Cock

Small town grocery stores could provide both psychiatrists and anthropologists a life time of clients and case studies. The Piggly Wiggly in Carrington, Georgia was no different. Curtis couldn't keep his business in his pants even though he loved his wife with almost all of his heart. Dotti, after years of being an indulging parent, had realized that she should of have whipped her son's ass far more than she had when he was a child. Brandi's bright mind and sulky attitude made her the recipient of the worst of Curtis' pick-up lines. Twila? Well, Twila was just trailer trash. And May, poor pregnant May continued to pile her hair atop that tiny head and march into work each day to face the man she still loved... or hated... or loved... Well, it depended on the hour.

These folks had their faults, as all humans do. But they were good people too. Take, for instance, Curtis. Few people knew that everyday Curtis would go to the deli and buy a meal from the hot bar to take to the homeless veteran who hung out by the blue dumpster at the side of the store. He would also buy the guy a pint if the horrible evidence of alcohol withdrawal stared back at him in the form of fearful eyes and shaking limbs. Something in Curtis made it impossible for him to deny the things that this man needed. Perhaps it was the fact that Curtis' father had disappeared mysteriously on a seemingly routine TDY. Whatever the reason, Curtis felt responsible for this man's well being. He tried to give him a job as a bagger once but after two days on the job Curtis found the man back at the dumpster, bottle in hand, whimpering softly. That was the end of trying to change the situation and the beginning of enabling it.