Some people ought not to be out in public without a keeper

So there we were last Tuesday[^] at Steele Indian School Park, in the queue for some Indian Fry Bread.

Indian Fry Bread is good stuff! So good in fact that the lines at the booths selling it were even longer than the lines leading to cold drinks and hot dogs.

They serve it hot and fresh from the fryer; sprinkled with icing sugar or honey or, for the more daring, with chili and various salads.

So there we were, as aforesaid, in the line. It moved slowly enough to make chilled honey seem fast by comparison. A group of 18 somethings ahead of us.

I'm sure you can imagine what happened when they became the head of the line. Uh huh. Having had at least ten minutes to peruse the price list/menu and decide what they wanted they had no idea. Thus a longish discussion taking account of that idiots aversion to honey whilst trying to accomdate the other idiots aversion to powdered sugar followed by an attempt to reconcile the third idiots desire for chili with the first two idiots desire for something of a dessert nature.

I felt like knocking their heads together, to see if I could hear their brains rattling around inside.

But now we know why the Indian Fry Bread line moves so slowly!