Ok, this one is not perfect by far, but I think we are getting closer to the 10 minute time commitment. This one took about 16 minutes (maybe 20 with last minute edits), and was based on the prompt “Remorse, Amish and Ice Cream Shop. Thanks and remember, it’s only fiction. :}
What can I say? The Amish have always rubbed me the wrong way.
Maybe it’s the beards without the mustaches. Maybe it’s the straw hats. Maybe it’s the fact that they were slow to take to Harrison Ford’s character in “Witness.” Maybe it’s the outfit choices. Or the repressive religiosity.
Maybe it’s because they can so easily forego all the technology that I can’t live without, and that makes me feel bad about myself.
I mean, I can’t go more than 5 minutes without fidgeting at some app on my phone, and these guys are entertained for hours by the sight of wheat blowing in the wind.
I start climbing the walls when our internet service goes down during a storm, and Brother Jeddiah doesn’t even know how to Google the word “internet.”
But the most likely reason for my being less than a fan of the Amish would be that I am a very impatient driver, and it seems like every time I’m driving around town in my truck there is a buggy smack in the middle of the road.
I don’t know if this is an Amish custom or just my rotten luck, but it seems like I always get stuck behind some guy who just can’t quite find it in his old fashioned heart to ride the side of the road like a gentlemen.
Instead, he cheats out towards the center until he is about a third of the way into the lane, making it hard for me to pass him without getting over into the opposite lane. This makes me late. I don’t like to be late.
And I really hate to be late when my wife sends me out for ice cream, because my wife loves ice cream. Crazy about it. No, seriously. Bat shit crazy about it.
If I don’t get to the Baskin Robbins and back to the house before her mint chocolate chip cone starts to melt, she’s going to give me hell.
And if there’s one thing I dislike more than a bunch of old timely revivalists living off the land and helping each other put up barns, it’s getting an earful from the wife about melted ice cream.
So when I’m in a hurry, and there’s a horse and buggy in front of me, I get stressed.
And when I get stressed. I start to panic.
And when I panic, I make bad decisions.
That’s is why I sincerely regret the actions I took on October 26, 2008, and ask the court’s forgiveness.