Something wicked this way comes

The other day one of my coworkers was extolling the virtues of the Interstate Highway phenomenon known as the Cracker Barrel. Personally, I don’t think the Cracker Barrel is “all that.” In fact, I think there’s something seditious about the whole thing.

How could a good, wholesome establishment for good old-fashioned home cookin’ be cast in with the likes of commie bastards? To be honest, I don’t really know. My gut just tells me there’s something not right with that place. My coworker suggested that it’s the attached “country shop” that rubs me the wrong way, and that being a male of the species I’m just naturally suspicious of anything resembling every man’s sworn enemy: gift shops.

I have to admit, he may be on to something there. Women folk teasing their men with home cooking and rocking chairs as a rouse, a foot in the door if you will, to get in some extra shopping time?!?

Some might call it good business, but I call it evil.