Sunday, October 3, 2021

And the Death Before Dishonor Confederate Flaming Skull of Death Motorcyclist Cigarette Lighter - weekly column 3 October 2021

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

And the Death Before Dishonor Confederate Flaming Skull of Death Motorcyclist Cigarette Lighter

 

At a gas station beside a small homeless encampment and an overpass I paused in my adventures for gas, coffee, and a break from the road.

 

The windows weren’t barred, which is always reassuring.

 

Gas stations sell gas, of course, as well as beer, sodas, snacks, and sometimes brass knuckles and big ol’ knives.

 

Yes, in a lovely display case there was a festive selection of brass knuckles and large knives, just the sort of things a traveling Bible salesman might want to pick up in case he accidentally left some of his weaponry at home.

 

One set of brass knuckles featured the letters “B,” “O,” “S,” and another “S” on each of the four primary presentation knuckles.

 

Advertising the fact or presumption that one is the BOSS is perhaps a psychological comfort to the operator, but in a dust-up one does not imagine that the recipient of the blow has time to read the legend or, if he (or she; I must remember all the pronouns) does have time to read it or to meditate upon the significance.

 

After all, if the bearer of the BOSS knucks is indeed the boss, shouldn’t he (or she) stand upon his (or her) authority without resorting to bashing someone?

 

Another set of metallic knuckles appeared to be made of stainless steel, and the legend thereupon was “KING,” the three consonants and one vowel again distributed appropriately upon the salient features of this engine of control.

 

So, then, does a king wear stainless steel knuckles that advertise his royal status? Indeed, does a king need to wear stainless steel knuckles at all? He has an army to wreak violence upon his enemies, and some shiny medals to impress the ladies.

 

There were also large knives for sale, one of them featuring a naked lady. I don’t know why. The knife was large but seemed inadequate for skinning a deer or splitting kindling. Maybe it was a weird Alfred Hitchcock thing.

 

I was going to take a discreet picture of the arrangement of knuckles, knives, Death Before Dishonor Confederate Flaming Skull of Death Motorcyclist cigarette lighters, and other Ya Say Ya Want a Revolution tchotchkes but the clerk was looking at me as if I need to buy some of the scary stuff or move along, so I moved along.

 

A gentleman always avoids distressing a lady, especially one whose stock in trade includes brass knuckles and large knives.

 

-30-

No comments: