I'm not sure why this stuff always happens when you combine Nate, Alex, Craig and Jessica with some sort of fair--state, county or otherwise. I was going to just let this one go. Take the high road. Forgive and forget. Turn the other cheek. Let bygones be bygones. Live and let live.
Can't do it.
Sweating, smelly and belligerent, this guy ran the Leon Leather shop at the Indianapolis State Fair with all the welcoming warmth and charm of a kick to the groin, and he must forever live with the wrath of McBone.
'NO PITCHERS!' He barked as Jessica snapped this photo. Meanwhile, he swatted the hands, sticky with fairgrounds comestibles, of customers who browsed through the panoply of leather goods--purses, vests, chaps, belts, wallets and, the object of our visit, cowboy hats. He was like the perfect hybrid of a den mother and a big, sweaty asshole.
"How much is this one?" Alex asked. The question was innocent enough, but it set off a firestorm.
"Fifty dollars," he growled, his bloodshot eyes darting here and there in a sort of frenzied malice, barely contained.
'That's expensive,' one client noted under her breath.
'IT'S LEATHER!' boomed the voice of our bellicose friend. 'LEATHER COSTS MORE!' His moustache bristled. Sweat poured from his sun-broasted face. For one fearful moment, I thought he was going to slug the poor woman for the affront.
As he became more and more unhinged, it was clear that this purveyor of leather goods was in dire need of something to huff. In terror, his clientele scattered, fairgoers in search of friendlier confines than Leon Leather.
We don't know what became of our leather peddling misanthrope. We can only hope some merciful soul has put that poor t-shirt out of its misery.
Pictured: Alex risks life and limb by trying on a Leon Leather cowboy hat.