Uh-uh...

I remember a time in undergrad where I didn't get paid til Friday, but needed groceries on Wednesday.

So I made it work.

I took out my checkbook, wrote a hot one to the cashier at Wal-Mart, and was able to eat another day. No one knew the difference -- not my mom, the cashier, or my bank.

Some people just don't know how to do it.

A few days ago, a Mercury Cougar rolled past me on the way home. Something was amiss. Either dude was driving Mrs. Daisy's 500 pound sister, or his car had a helluva lean to it.

The tires told the story.

The chrome rims shined masterfully on the driver's side. But when he got over to make a left turn, I noticed his car's deficiency. The back rim had been replaced by a donut.

Not even a regular tire. A donut. Dude's car looked like it was getting ready to pop a willy.

In the end, his cover was blown. Everyone knew he couldn't afford to get a new tire after whatever happened. I tried to wonder what I would do in his place. My best friend got her rims and kept the factory tires for her BMW. I'm hoping he sold his, because rolling around like that was foolishness.

What say you? I know you've seen someone out there who wasn't "ready for the show," but got on stage anyway...