I went to the Bi-Mart store again, the mini Walmart-like store. I was checking on their supplies of WD-40. Nope. But I walked down the clothing aisle to leave the store and saw sweat pants. Well I could use a new pair for my old ones were threadbare plus I burned a hole in the butt when I backed up to the stove one morning. Polyester melts you know. So I figured I'd get a new pair for the chilly mornings. Back home, guess who claimed them straight away. Thanks Dad.
Oh, and I chose check-out lane number one again so I could sit on the wood stools in the shoe section while waiting in line. The same friendly check-out lady was there. That must be her station. Seniority I assume. This day she wasn't wearing her face shield, but a cloth mask instead. I had to ask. She said it gets so scratched up and dirty it is hard use and she hadn't cleaned it yet. I reminded her about the day I couldn't understand what she was saying and the cloth mask was much better. She says "I know, but I get people telling me they can't understand me with the mask either. Ya just can't please them all. Be safe on your motorcycle."