I think the South is corrupting me. This morning I called a church I don’t go to in a town I don’t live in to tell them that I thought their LP tank didn’t smell right when I was in their cemetery yesterday.
The guy I talked to said he thought he smelled something weird in the church last night, too, so he was going to go right out and check on it.
Who does this?! What has become of me?
Has this place made me nicer?
(In my defense, I had to call, because I am a notorious fretter and I could not stop myself from fretting about the church and the cemetery exploding in a fiery disaster unparalleled since the cannons knocked over gravestones during the Civil War. But I assert that the real me would just fret privately and then, when the explosion happened, wonder why no one noticed and told them about the smell. This fake me, obviously corrupted by the good influence of you people is calling folks up and warning them! What the fuck?)