Maybe it the Santa Claus look-alike behind me … in my personal space and touching my underwear. Or maybe it was the clearly mentally challenged guy in front of me who pulled a wad of Benjamins out of his pocket that had to be at least $2000. Or maybe it was the guy behind Santa, with a scrolly tattoo that went from his sideburns, down the side of his face, across his chin, creating a beard-tattoo unlike any I’d ever seen. I know it wasn’t the really hot girl, because clearly she didn’t belong. But whatever it was … something … something was making me very uncomfortable.

Of course, it could’ve been the fact that it was 2:15 am, and I was in Hemet’s very own Walmart, buying clothes so that I could stay in a hotel that was also hosting all the fighters from KOTC (King of the Cage) in order to return to my consulting project in a mere 6 hours. Yes, that was certainly it.

I have a tip for those aspiring writers among my loyal readers… Get a job.

Okay, bad joke. Just go find a 24-hour Walmart. Go there at odd hours. You will have plenty of stories. Trust me.