Billy was attacked by a purse-wielding vegan today. He was confronted at the gas station parking lot with a pig in the back of the truck. Elisa and I were sitting with him in our local diner, waiting for Harriet to finish her piano lesson and complaining about how tired we were for a Tuesday. Then with this story, we were wide awake. A woman came up to his window earlier in the afternoon while he sat there for a moment, eating a sandwich and reading the paper. She was very concerned. He tried to explain pig psychology- a pig that is relaxed enough to sleep is a happy pig- but that didn’t go far. This was a large pig-almost 300lbs and nearly all muscle. She reached in to pat him and Billy said, “This happens to be a friendly pig but you need to be careful. Some will bite.” Maybe secretly he has been waiting for this encounter because when she told him she was a vegan, instead of shrugging, he told her she wasn’t, and listed off the animal products used in the car she drove. Hence, the purse attack. It was against his truck, not him, but he didn’t take it well. She accused him of caring more for his truck than the pig. “Unlike you, I don’t hit either one!” he told her. By now, Elisa and I were on the edge of our seats, “Did you really, truly call her an idiot?!” She said something to him about “factory farms, ” and he said, “You don’t know the first thing about me,” and got into the truck and drove away. I’m happy to say, the pig slept through the whole thing.