Whose Idea Was it to Plant Pink Petunias Anyway?

So I'm up early on Saturday to do one of my least favorite jobs, watering the planter downtown that I've been assigned by the garden club. And I'm just bemoaning the fact that this year for consistency's sake all the planters were planted with PINK and white petunias.  I never plant pink flowers. The whole idea of a pink flower just seems redundant to me.

I realize that trying to live my life openly and honestly sets me up for abuse in a small town in IL so far south that it's adjacent to AR, MO and KY but apparently being caught watering a barrel of pink petunias downtown on Sat. morning is just TOO MUCH for the small mind of some young man in the back of a late 80s black Nissan to take.

He shouts out, "Pretty flowers!" sarcastically to me as his "chauffer" speeds down Broadway like they've just pulled off the hate crime of the century.

My response (In the tradition of Quiser from Steel Magnolias who "smiled at the sonofabitch before she recognized him) was to wave and say HI!

It's a beautiful cool clear late spring morning. I should congratulate myself for doing this small

civic duty which I don't particularly enjoy but for those few seconds afterwards the morning is ruined for me by some degenerate whose minute brain capacity is probably only matched by the insignificant size of his reproductive equipment.

I'm sorry bud that you are able to accomplish so little in this world but there is no need to take in out on this protector of the petunias!