HUG A REDNECK, FOR ME

When I envisioned some of the weird situations in which I might meet my end (morbid I know, but don't even act like you've never done it), standing in line at the bank with my father waiting to make some deposits was never one of them. Even more unlikely, was that my father would be the one to set the events that could have led to my demise in motion.

So, there we were, standing in line at the bank. My dad nudges me and chin gestures to the large man currently speaking with the teller. The man has a pony tail hanging down to about his belt. He's wearing dirty boots, jeans, and a t-shirt that reads, "Git 'er Done", emblazoned with a very angry deer against a waving confederate flag background.

Following the chin gesture, my dad, in the loudest stage whisper ever says, "Think that could be a Sarah Palin T-shirt?"

So, I guess I can add "Death-by-anti-deer-redneck-in-a-bank" to my list of future possibilities.

Thanks, Dad.