Duh

I named a recent post Dope Move #42.
I should go the extra mile today and name this one Queen Dipshit.

I drove off last night with my business checkbook on the roof of my car.

This is not the first time I've done this kind of thing. In the past, though, some honest citizen has called me or mailed me my wallet or organizer. This time however, my checkbook fell into the hands of some punk kids (I'm guessing) and they proceeded to tear my checks out of the book and distribute them in clumps up and down Main Street here in Johnson. The checks and their carbon copies. I found a page of them when I pulled up this morning at 7:30am. I found another page in the muddy curb water in front of the shop. I started looking around, walking around, and it was like a sick, twisted scavenger hunt....I found some around the corner by the bridge. I found more in the Grand Union parking lot. More in the dried up perennial beds of the health food store. Some more on the corner of Railroad Street. A few customers came in with stacks of them in their hands. Two local businesses called about some they'd found in their yards. Hannah, who opened the shop this morning, found a crumpled pile just inside the door.

The account has been closed, with allowances for the checks that haven't yet been cashed, and a new account has been opened and a new checkbook is on the way. Bill, being the eternal optimist, suggested that the wind may have ripped the pages out of the book ("it was pretty windy last night").... but I disagree. If I ever find the punks who opted to play scavenger hunt with my business checks, I think I'll opt to hang them by their toenails from the flagpole outside my bank. Fuckers.