Ever notice how every fast food restaurant in the universe has a sign on the front door that says "No Solicitation?" It's there, usually right above the "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Shitty Food" one. I never understood the point of this. I had strange visions of door-to-door encyclopedia salesmen hawking wares to bemused McDonald's employees, or carpet cleaners making pitches to managers at a Burger King. The need for these signs was lost on me until last week when I, like an idiot, realized I had gotten it all wrong. I did this when an oldish dude started walking along the lines at Wendy's trying to sell people bootleg CDs and DVDs.

Now, I had no real need for the "Hot hits, great selection, right here, best movies and music" that were "the best deals in town, ladies and gentlemen." Neither did anyone else, as every single person in the Wendy's immediately, reflexively snapped into Subway Mode, skillfully ignoring the interloper. He wasn't particularly smelly, or ugly, and still had the majority of his teeth. Maybe that's why he thought that he would be able to move up the bootleg sales ladder from subway to street to fast-food joint. He had no luck, though, as he passed from person to person, eventually leaving. He was no doubt broken-hearted, his bid for Wendy's greatness ruined but leaving me slightly enlightened.

I told you this story, stuffed with enough purple prose to choke a fucking horse, to illustrate a concept. Sometimes things come out of nowhere, sometimes opportunities show up where they're least expected. Sometimes these are unwanted, like bootleg DVDs of Barbershop. Sometimes they're awesome and very welcome, like something else altogether.