I know it was supposed to be 70 degrees on Friday, but before 9 a.m. it was still in the upper 30s. There I was, bundled in a coat with my back to the wind as I filled up my car with gasoline. I don't know what drew my attention to the Braum's next door, but I looked over to see a man, probably my age or older, walking in for breakfast, wearing a T-shirt and shorts.
He's either one tough guy; a guy who doesn't want to change clothes as it gets warmer; or someone too dumb to realize that 38 degrees is considered chilly and one should dress appropriately.
Maybe I'm just cranky because I had to work Friday and he, obviously, didn't.