Have you ever thrown a real grenade?
I look around, and I realise that the store clerk is talking to me. "Umm, no", I say, weighing up the option of running out of the shop and leaving my purchases behind. "I have. It's cool. My dad was in the war, and he has a bunch left over. If you threw you out there -" he points to the car park out side " - it'll blow a hole in that Buick!"
"Really?" Is it just me, or is the other guy ringing up my things really slowly? Somebody help me!
"Yeah. Sometimes, we pull the pin out, and put it back in quickly. And then we have duds, so we pull the pins out of them and throw them at passers-by. Hehehe."
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the Harris Teeter at Carrboro.
Thursday night: not too much to report. There was drinking, more drinking, trying to look after Kavi, who had started ahead of everybody else and still wanted more to drink (plus a weird atmosphere between her and Sona, which almost derailed the night before it began), more Eliot quoting, and a ride home from the guy who hosted the party in Raleigh that I went to back in February. Here, have a picture: