I know there were plenty of people in line with me last night for ribs at Ribfest. When there was a break between bands, I decided to go for it. Since every line for every vendor seemed to be the same length, I settled in with a full beer, and took my place at the back of the line. Twenty minutes later, I had moved about ten feet. This would not be bad if the line was only ten feet long. Unfortunately I was about 40 feet away from my barbecue treat. But, as there was still plenty of time before the next band started, I told myself to be patient. Time passed. More time passed. I eyed the hot sauces available. One was so extremely hot, that they basically warn you not to eat it. Of course that's the one I begin to crave. As I got within ten feet of the counter, the band started playing. I was still waiting. But now I was getting impatient. Not with the vendors, but with the people who had been standing in line with me, who had the same 40 minutes to STARE at the gigantic menus above the counter. One guy got there, and had to back up a few feet and decide what he wanted. I wanted to pop him in the noggin. Then something happened that made me think life wasn't so bad. The guy directly in front of me went to order, and either they didn't take credit cards, or his was denied. Either way, he left empty handed. (It happened so fast, he disappeared into the crowd before I realized what had happened. If I would have had time to think about it, I probably would have paid for his ribs.) Anyway, I got my ribs, my pulled pork, my sausage, beans and potato salad and found myself a table to open my styrofoam rib box. They forgot my hot sauce. With a roll of my eyes I sighed and grabbed a rib. I would have to settle for the natural flavor of the ribs, instead of my beloved hot sauce. I took my first bite. Was it all worth it? You damn right. I'm doing it again tonight!
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