Like today: I drove out of town to get the best (yet inexpensive, if I go to this particular store) cold cuts for Big Brother's lunch. He's not a fan of the lunch meat at the local supermarket, and my other two sources have gone out of business.
It's not a long trip (less than 15 minutes) but it is a venture into a neighborhood where fashion sensibilities are quite different. I stood in line to pay for the food, behind a young man whose belt fell far below the place where belts are supposed to go. And unlike many other young men who wear their pants this way, he wasn't wearing a knee-length t-shirt. It wasn't a pretty sight.
I hope Big Brother appreciates this.
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