For five years now, the back glass of my truck has looked like a tramp-stamp tattoo booth on the outskirts of Lillith Fair. For those in the balcony, I mean liberal wit. It’s not been much of a problem until now.

Last week, I noticed that someone tried to peel off my anti-Putin message. That’s nothing compared to today’s encounter, though. The other side is getting bolder.

I was sitting in my truck while writing in a Waxahachie, Texas HEB parking lot. It’s where I happened to be when I caught the writing bug. A gentleman, reminiscent of all those “because manly, manly, men” commercials we “free” YouTubers are forced to watch paused his walk toward the store entrance in my rearview mirror. He actually approached my driver’s side window and motioned for me to roll it down. I obliged out of curiosity.

“You’ve got all those stickers back there but not a single key scratch; that’s amazing,” he said.

I just laughed until he walked away. Apparently I make strangers nervous when I chuckle manically behind sun glasses. It weas a quickly paced move-on, too. I made sure I was still sitting there writing when he exited the store and tiptoed back to his Tesla. I may not be many things, but I’m always dedicated to the completion of the gag. Just doing my part to make the far right stumble upon their own shoelace rhetoric.

I’m really riding the fence at this point, left-leaning-center again like I was before the heinous January 6th insurrection. I don’t spend my spare time taking baseball bats to Trump rallies and knocking a bit of sense into their numbers one head at a time. Why does the other side always feel the need to announce their arrival to anyone they consider to be a liberal at first glance? Sometimes context clues will lead you in the direction of a broken nose.

Just walk inside the damned store and get your tampons, Big Billy Bad Ass. You’re dripping for all the wrong reasons, and it’s unbecoming of modern society’s entrance exam. I think you’re going to have to retake the test. Also, you’re dancing awfully close to that thirty-mile boundary that keeps you safe from the big, mean city. Just because I don’t believe in road-rage and drive-by shootings doesn’t mean that some of my fellow Dallas-ites won’t pick up the mantle and run with it.

My life is all about peace now, until it’s not. Please don’t be the one who wakes the wolf. He’s hungry and a little on edge. You wouldn’t even have time to set up your Tik-Tok camera before it’s all over.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon. We CAN all get along. We just have to strategically remove the irritants from the crowd. One nasal cartilage snap at a time…

This piece has been brought to you by Starving Zoe. Only two copies left in my personal stock.