Somewhere, on his way back to Dallas, there's an old man who wanted to die today. I spent from 9am this morning until 2:30pm this afternoon with the owners of our management company. There are 2 owners and one of them happened to be a 72 year old man who, regrettably, was in perfect physical and mental condition. He was a nice enough sort, lots of stories and what not. He said 'thank you' far to often for my tastes which is saying something since I'm often fond of over indulging a bit with the 'thank you's. We were driving around the outskirts of the Big Funky around lunchtime and needed to find a spot to eat. There are no restaurants worth a shit where we were driving and we ended up stopping at some cafe that was probably less of shithole when it was opened 50 years ago but not much less. Even worse, our waitress (and I use the term with some trepidation) was a disgusting, obese, bitch of a woman. This bitch was so ugly the doctors probably brained her mom at birth to keep shit like this out of the world. She copped the worst attitude I've ever seen and generally treated everyone with a vacuum of respect and decency. Yet, this old man still poured 'thank you's on her like it was fucking Jesus washing his feet. The worst thing the old man did though was what really pissed me off. I sat in the back seat with him and anytime he felt like sharing one of his good-ol'-boy proverbs he not only included me in the statement but also gave me a slap on the leg. "Someplace to eat? Me an' John are partial to Dairy Queen!" (slap), "Walmart is 4% of the US GDP, and it's me an' John's favorite store!" (slap). Old man, don't lie on me, and don't ever, ever put your fucking hands on me. There are areas of the Big Funky where if one man puts his hands on another man his whole family is killed. That he was one of the nicer almost-dead people I've met was the only thing holding me back from pushing his carcass out the car door while we were going 70 over the fucking Brazos. God damn! Why do they make me hate?