Daily Confession — June 1, 2008

I stole a barrel of grease from outside White Castle last night.  It was just sitting there, man.  How could I resist?  Since we got this bio-fuel Hummer, I just can’t deal with gas bills.   Michelle drives us all over town looking for God knows what.  Ladies undergarments, I suppose.  But when it’s time to fill up the tank, who do you suppose has to fork over the Amex card?  And, no, I’m not charging it to my expense account like a certain someone who used to be in my shoes might have done.  Relax, people of New York.  This is coming out of our personal account.  But that’s why it’s killing me.   So, last night, we were sitting in the car in the parking lot of White Castle, making quick work of a 20-pack .  It was me and Michelle and a couple of my body guards.  Just a relaxing little all-American meal in the car, when Joey — I think it was Joey — said, hey, look at that.  A whole barrel of fry grease just sitting there.   I said, no way.  That’s got to be worth a fortune on the black market.  Michelle punched me in the arm at that point.  And I knew what she meant.  Don’t screw this up for us, David.  Don’t throw it all away for a barrel of grease.  I tried to restrain myself, but with each bite of my burger, the idea of all that grease sitting there became harder and harder to bear.  Finally, I just couldn’t stand it.  Someone was going to take it, I figured.  It might as well be us.  I mean, we could drive all the way to Florida on that barrel.  Over Michelle’s sighs and protests, I had the guys roll it over and slip it in the back of the Hummer.  Yeah, I know.  Petty larceny is a misdemeanor.  I could be blowing the whole governorship for some rancid lard.  But, sometimes, you have to give in to your impulses.  This was one of them.  What can I tell you?  It’s the times we live in.  Free fuel is the American dream.  And let no one ever claim that I am not as patriotic as the best of ‘em.  Once again, Uncle Sam, grease is the word.

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