G.O.A.T

When I start my day, there are three things I need before the 'day' actually begins. Feed and walk the dog (That's one thing, taking care of Scout). Second, I have coffee. The final thing, and most important for making a new day, is my shower. Until I get my shower it is still last night. It is still me laying in bed, unwashed with yesterday all over me. Everything that comes before or after the shower is extra. Breakfast, my morning poop, watching the WGN morning news, all just extra good stuff.

Usually, on Wednesday, I go grocery shopping. I like to go around ten in the morning when the store is not very crowded. When employees out number customers. It's a good time and the lady behind the service desk knows me. That's because I usually find a mistake on my receipt and I immediately scuttle over to see her. It's like a game for me. Find the mistake, and don't be wrong. If there is a real mistake and she has to refund some money, I smile. If I'm wrong, and she points out the fine print on the coupon, she smiles. Anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point here is that before I went shopping on Wednesday, I took a shower. I used soap, I shaved, and I used deodorant. Yet almost every single time I go shopping, there  is some old fart walking around smelling like a goat. You know he's there before you even see him. The aroma lingers in the aisle so you know that when you turn the corner, he'll be there. Smelling like a fucking goat. Gross, Old, AnTique.