"The guy say; "I want two turds to go." What are you talking about?" the bartender says as he throws up his hands in frustration."There are three kind... of turds." The man says. There's mustard, custard and you; you little shit.And so the ride went; exchanging jokes. I found out he had worked for the founder of "Jimmy Johns" at his first restaurant.The conversation eventually turned political. I was pretty amazed at his evaluation of the political situation we are in. This man looked like he. You could always tell what sport season it was by what type of game they played. At least there was enough room where they couldn't break any windows. Now that I thought of it, I haven't seen either of them since I came home from the hospital, which was unusual.Tuesday right after the wife left for work, the phone rang. It was Jane Black from my work and she laid right into me."What the hell did you tell that detective? He interviewed all of us in the office about you." I didn't say anything. More

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