Last night, Ron was kind enough to make a quick run to the market to pick up some more ginger ale. Ours was nearly gone and what we had left in the big bottle had lost its bubbles. Flat ginger ale just doesn't cut it. It was about eight minutes 'til six, so he busted on down to Hirano Store, near the end of our road, plenty of time to make it before they close at 6:00 p.m. He got there. No ginger ale. In fact, when he asked, they looked at him like he'd just sprouted a horn in the middle of his forehead. Guess there's not much call for ginger ale here. So, he headed on down the road, not to the next store at Mt. View (their prices are extortion) but the next, J. Hara . Again, he couldn't find it, so he asked. "Just a second," said the clerk, who disappeared behind the beverage storage door for a moment. A different clerk appeared. "I can help you," she said. "Right over here." She proceeds to lead him to the freezer se...