The Bonfire of the Michael Jacksons

I was at the grocery store at a later than usual hour, and found myself standing in line behind a giant.

He was probably three times as tall as me, three times as big around, three times as bald and three times as outgoing.

"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"Good," I said. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he said. He then gestured towards the beer in my hand and said, "You've even got the shirt to match."

I looked down at my Pabst Blue Ribbon t-shirt and laughed.

Then, I looked up at his cart and noticed it was full of two things:

1.) Boxes of matches. Probably a hundred of them.

2.) Commemorative copies of the NY Times featuring the death of Michael Jackson on the cover, probably 10 copies.

Being three times less outgoing than this giant, I didn't ask why the hell he was buying a whole tree's worth of Michael Jackson papers and matches. Instead, I speculated to myself. The only thing I could come up with was that he was planning on burning the stack of Michael Jackson papers in some symbolic act of defiance against something.

Luckily, the clerk checking us out asked on my behalf, after running the tenth box of matches over the scanner.

"All right," he said. "I'm too curious. I've gotta ask."

"I run a cigar shop down the street," the giant laughed.

"I see," the clerk said.

"Don't worry, they ALWAYS ask," the giant said.

I still only understand 50% of his purchase items.