I even sampled pork rinds and decided I didn’t care much for them, but I drew the line at pickled eggs and brined pigs feet floating cut in half in clear jars by the register of every gas station and convenience store I went into. One time while buying cigarettes with a check I asked if anyone actually bought those things.
“Where you from?” the clerk said.
I told him Alaska. He raised his brow and puckered as if knowing that Alaska was north somewhere but not sure if that made me a Yankee. He looked at the check and handed it back to me and said, “Sorry, but I can’t take this from no Richard Nixon.” He smiled and I knew then there was no use in arguing.
As I left he added, “Have a nice day.”
~ The Troubles
