GET OFF THE BLACK!!!

I got coffee and a blueberry muffin this morning at the C-Store. I asked a clerk over by the microwave oven if they had forks, and she said to ask at the front counter.

I asked, but The 2nd She didn't appear to hear, so I asked again. This time the response was a loud "GET OFF THE BLACK!" -confused- I looked down towards the cabinets for a fork where The 2nd She was pointing, saying, "I? need? a? fork?" but I think I only got the "I need ..." articulated before the next wave of

"GET~TOFF~TH~EBLACK!!!"

unhappily happened and I looked farther down following her index finger for a fork dispenser and saw that the floor where one half of one of my feet had entered was a very dark zoned tile place. Of course I didn't realize I had crossed a boundary into a forbidden Ernest No-Go zone. I eventually got a fork and I think there was possibly a third GOTB!!!

A simple "please move, you aren't supposed to be right there even though there isn't a sign to let you know that, and here is your fork, oh dear regular customer, who indirectly furnishes me with a paycheck" would have been nice.

There will always be a potential mixture of Friendlies and Unfriendlies no matter how small a town gets in Texas, no matter how often you frequent a joint, until you get down to a population of two, then its pretty solid in the Camp Friendly category, especially if I am the other half.