The Big Event

In a little town there isn't much
to do. You would attend all the high
school football games. You do so
even when it's a losing season.
Promptly at 10 o'clock they roll up
the sidewalks. The place becomes
a ghost town except the kids are up.
They park on the hill above the town
just for something to do.

There is one exception to this placid
place. Town folks look forward to
it like a kid looks forward to Christmas.
It's when the only store in town holds
its annual sock sale.

The sale is the chance for the townsfolk
to strip off the thin veneer of civility.
The sale lasts for four hours and it's
catch as catch can. Two hundred
people jammed in the 40 x 40 room,
bashing and thrashing each other over
pairs of socks.
I suppose, the sox are just an excuse
to let down their hair. You have bragging
rights when you’ve been bashed by an old
ladie’s purse. The frenzy lasts until
noon. You grab and armload of socks
and tuck it tightly under your arm. With
the other arm you fight off the would be
sock bandits. You really haven't arrived
until you've spilt a little blood.

When at last the clock strikes twelve,
the sox all go off sale and there is no
excuse to bludgeon your neighbor.
Everyone smiles and are friends again
until they do it again next year.