i like white trash

It's now a mandatory thing at my work to take a 30-minute break at some point in the 8-hour work day. Apparently its the law or whatever. So rather than eating at my desk like I used to do, mainly because I like to leave early but mostly because I'm too poor to take a lunch break and eat somewhere, now that this break is forced on me I sit outside and read 'Quick' or 'The Observer'. The only place where I can sit without having to buy something to sit there is outside in the "smokers pit". This is where all those addicts with that nasty habit conjugate for a total of about 3 hours of their day. Half of them work in my office so I know the quoted amount of time they spend smoking to be a fact. I work for one of them.

Today I sat in "the pit" and began to read the Quick. The pit being a somewhat narrow and low area means that your conversation is shared with all who are sitting within a few feet's distance. The conversation I overheard today was one that confirmed my suspicion that, not all, but most all smokers have a decent amount of white trash in them. They curse a lot. And I don't mean a sh*t here and a d*mn there. I mean mother f*cker here and g*dd*am there. And often. Like every-other-word has to be a curse word or else then don't know how to connect their thoughts. Another thing I have notice about most, but not all, smokers is that this amount of white trash in them is essential to their being. They are a smoker. Loud and proud. THEY SMOKE. They remind me of homosexuals who feel the need to be as flamboyant as they can be to declare who they are. I say that with all respect. The conversation between these two smokers was in regards to one smokers wild weekend full of guns, ammo, bar fights, not being able to keep a buzz, and hot chicks. These. Guys. Were. White. Trash.

I've always had this fear that if I don't watch myself I may end up being white trash. In this fear I would be living in old crappy trailer in a small ass town with 7 kids, no job, no money, no insurance, no heater in the winter, no food, no nothing. Then I remind myself that that probably won't happen. But still, you never know.

The only good thing about "white trash" is the kind of white trash that is covered in melted peanut butter, chocolate and powdered sugar. After I get done trying to not injure myself further in yoga tonight I'm going home to make some good ole white trash. Hot damn, I can't wait!