I don't have a problem at all.....

So I get home yesterday and open the old fridge to get a frosty beverage and realize that SHIT! THERE ARE ONLY 3 LEFT. Well, see, I have this thing where I hate to run out of beer. It doesn't matter that I only want 1 or 2, I need to have a bunch in there because, well, you never know. I think it's from growing up and having to find people to buy it for you and it being such a hassle that we always made sure we had plenty. Or I'm a drunk. Eh, either way. So, as the afternoon's thunderstorm passes (it's been raining every day right after I get home and it's soooo beautiful), I decide that I'm going to walk to the store at the end of the block and get some more beer. No problem. The sun's coming back out now. You can see where this is going, right? I get to the end of the street and am immediately filled with the dread that can only be known by someone that is as lazy as I am and also as thirsty and also is frustrated with the "moral sections" of this community. Yep, you guessed it. The gas station at the end of my street? Zealots. No beer. As I picked up the remains of my heart from the sidewalk, I now realized why it always takes that old guy down the street so long to get back with his beer.....Yeah, the next place to buy it is at the end of the street I'm now standing on. Niiiice. I can see the roof of where I'm going, so it can't be that far right? Off I go, fighting traffic, because why would the city need sidewalks? Pfft. I get there, and pull a Frogger to get across 6 lanes of traffic because there's a crosswalk but no walk lights. Again, why would you need that? I forgot that when you're in the crosswalk, it's kind of like in Young Guns when they were in the Sprit World. Beauty. I go in, finally, and get my beer and am then standing in line behind a girl that is as big around as a pencil and covered in crack sores on her face....counting change for a soda. Counting. And then putting one back because she didn't have a nickel and the stupid clerk wouldn't just give her one. I never carry cash or I'd have given it to her. Damn, man. Back up the street I go, but uh-oh...what's that? Thunder? Nah...it's just the storm moving on. That drop of water on my arm? Blowing off of a tree, surely. 3-2-1...MONSOON. I swear at this point the rain was blowing sideways. I know the people driving past are laughing...mostly because I could see them slow down and stare at me with their mouths open. Bastards. I think about my 12 pack. The cardboard's getting soaked. And you know what happens to cardboard when it gets wet? It's about as strong then as a piece of toilet paper. Well, not wanting to have to pick up cans of cold beer from the raging torrents of water now running down the sides of the road and over my ankles, I cradle my beer like a baby for the rest of the walk home. Thus garnering even more looks from the people driving by. I make my street again finally and can see my porch....when it quits raining. By now my sandals are so wet I can't keep them on my feet and I have to cross the street in front of the Nascar qualifying round.....Up on the porch and inside to put something dry on ....1/2 hour later and I'm home. Not that I mind walking in the rain, but next time I need beer? I'm totally driving.