No, you can't have my food. Let me preface this by saying I live in the south, home of slovenly hams, summer showers, and Cookout.  This weekend was a beautiful, the sun was shining, so I decided to take my motorcycle out. After riding for a good while, the sky started to darken and I started getting pelted by rain drops.  I don't know how many of you have a bike, but water droplets at 60 mph sting like a bitch. So, knowing how fast these storms come and go, I decided it was best to get off the highway and grab a terrible lunch (doesn't happen often, but damn it sometimes I want a burger with chili). For those of you who don't know, there's a chain in the South East called Cookout, and it's cheap as hell, has a million options, and it's my guilty pleasure. There's a covered outside dining area that I parked directly in front of, and at one of the tables are two beasts, and due to their size and age, I'll call them Oldsmobile and Buick. They stare daggers at me as I get off the bike, and as I walk by one grunts and says something, but between the mouthfuls of food and jowls I couldn't tell what. I don't care, I'm a little damp and hungry. I get myself my burger with a side of hush puppies, sit outside to watch the storm, and start to munch. Now, the serving sizes here are massive, and I couldn't begin to finish my food. I play on my phone with my unfinished meal in front of me, and Oldsmobile and Buick are still staring at me. I look up, expecting them to look away when they see me looking back, and they're still staring. Ooookaaaay... At this point the rain has passed, so I get up to throw my tray out and get back on the road. Buick: "Nuh ah take it." Wait what? Did someone just speak to me? "Huh?" Buick: "Dun throw it out. Ah take it." Me: "Uh, no, this is trash." Oldsmobile: "NO! We watched, you didn't eat none it! We can have it!" (not asking, just stating." Buick: "We NEED it! If yuh throw it out its a waste!" Then, I shit you not, this tub of lard gets it's fat ass up and starts walking towards me, slowly, paw out to take my trash. Me: "How about no." Then, figuring I'd like to shitlord a bit, decided to play a game. I rarely get to shitlord in public. Me: "If you can come and get it, it's yours" Then I started walking backwards, holding the tray out. This fucking lard barge couldn't move fast enough to keep pace with me walking BACKWARDS for fucks sake. Buick: "Now (huff) c'mon I (wheeze) that ain't (huff) STAHP!" That's when I realized I was next to the dumpster. Me: "Okay okay, I'll stop. Here, you can ha-OOPS MY HAND SLIPPED! IT'S STILL SLIPPING! I CAN'T STOP IT!!" As I opened the lid to the dumpster, opened the tray, and dumped it all in. Buick: "FFFFAAAAAUUUHHHK (WHEEEEZE) YAAAHHOOOOO!!" Me: "Hey, at least you got up and walked around a bit. Good job!"  Oldsmobile, still in it's seat: "Yur an ASS HOLE!" Me: "Yep!" And I got my ass back on my bike and it's wet seat and rode an hour home. It was a nice day to ride. Edit: me no format good