The following scene transpired just moments ago in a local burrito joint.
Attempted Blogger is waiting in line to order burritos. Two 20s-ish dudes are standing behind her, wearing sweatshirts and jeans.
Dude #1: Did you see the game yesterday? Ridiculous.
Dude #2: I know, it was FUCKED…
Hey, what are you getting?
Dude #1: Uh, Buffalo Chicken Burrito, probably.
(a short conversation ensues about the Super Bowl, I tune in only intermittently to the string of football jargon interspersed with”fucked-up” and “insane.”)
Attempted Blogger finally reaches the front of the line and begins to order.
Dude #1: Oh, I dunno, I’ve been doing a lot of reading.
Dude #2: …Like for work, or what?
Dude #1: No, just like to read it, or whatever.
I’m reading this book called, “Gone with the Wind.”
Dude #2: Yeah, what’s it about?
Dude #1: Oh, like the South after the Civil War. There’s this girl, Scarlett O’hara…
I wish I could’ve hung around to hear Dude #1’s synopsis of the plot, but my burritos were up and I had to run.
The Lower Crust 
…and then they all went home [terrible drawing of school bus with the case of “Gone With the Wind” inside].
Doesn’t Scarlett O’Hara sound like the street name for a tranquilizer?
Oops, “cast of.” But there should be something that you can by a case-worth of called “Gone with the Wind.”