So I’m driving down one of Phoenix’s many fine roadways this morning, spending an hour behind the wheel as I often do. I got passed by a guy about my age in a huge F150 and I noticed something. He had one of those cup holders on his door, the plastic ones you slide in under the glass. And in it was large package of French fries. He was munching away on said fires as he plowed along. I looked at the clock on my dashboard and thought to myself – where does one even get a basket of fries at 7:30 in the morning?
Strange days, indeed.by