Hotboxed in line at the A & P

So we did the late night grocery shop and pick up a movie thing last night. We rented the second Deuce Bigalow movie, and, while I LOVED the first one the second has very little to recommend it. I thought there was tons of plot potential but the script, acting, and just about everything else about it sucked.

We whizzed through the grocery store at a fairly good pace, and when we came to the only open cash (the express) we were waiting behind 3 girls.

I noticed when we pulled our cart up behind them that something was a bit off but I couldn't place it. I was more interested in strategizng with Dave about how we could unclog our shower drain.

The longer we waited in line, we noticed distinct and overpowering smell of pot smoke washed over us. Like we'd walked in to a hotboxed room. Like one of them had rolled in the roaches of a huge frat party. The funny thing the girls were all buying typical food you'd buy when you have the munchies. They stammered a couple of times in front of the cashier and were on their way. I (somewhat) quietly mused that if our life insurance companies could probably test us and say "you've been getting high!" and I pictured us saying "No, no, no, we haven't! Honest! It was some kids in the grocery store!" The girls smelled worse than I did on the way home from a KISS concert.

The crappy part is when we got out of the store, still laughing about it we were unloading our groceries in the car and saw them drive by, eating brownies. I hope the driver was sober.