Okay, this thread is reminding me of the time I was in line at the supermarket behind a cowboy. A real cowboy with dirt permanently ground into his callused hands, not just some joker in jeans and a hat.
Oh, and hot. Or is "hot cowboy" redundant?
Anyway, I was checking through his load of stuff on the conveyor belt--meat, cereal, fruit, nothing unusual. Until I looked at the very end; six (six!) pints of hazelnut-flavored coffee creamer.
Huh?
Do he and his buddies sit around the campfire of an evening celebrating the moments of their lives?
"That waiter!"
"Jean-Claude...!"
This was years before Brokeback Mountain, mind you.
Why am I telling this story? Dunno. Just that it made an impression on me.
veg