Sparks Fly From Her Finger Tips

Herein contains a little post where I bust on people I know and don’t know and how I should learn to suffer fools better.

The other night while at 3 Monkeys with the two ladies that used to comprise the office coven (we weren’t really witches but the oldest of the three of us dubbed us that one day and I have always held it close to my heart) we discussed the whereabouts of the people we used to work with at the Bank. One of those people used to douse herself in so much perfume that I could tell when she entered the office because I could taste her perfume. If you just got a nasty image in your head, then you understand how horrible it was to not be able to see perfume lady but to know she was in the office because your tongue became encased in perfume. Her son has asthma difficulties. Which is terrible and I understand and sympathize with the horrible feeling of not breathing. What I can’t understand is why this woman would be surprised that her child has breathing difficulties when he has had to suck down that perfume every day of his life.


Today we went to the salon to get haircuts and the woman in line at the checkout counter was clueless. I told the better-half that I’d wait for him on the sidewalk. The woman’s husband and son got into the huge green Avalanche that was parked right in front of the store. The odd thing about them is they talked about how beautiful it was and how they should roll down the window but then they sat in the huge green Avalanche with the windows up. The woman came out of the salon and looked down the street as if she were lost. If you have a huge green Avalanche in your driveway on a daily basis and, in fact, have probably driven the huge green Avalanche wouldn’t you recognize the huge green Avalanche that was sitting 2 feet in front of you? She finally did and got in the huge green Avalanche. I later asked the better-half if she seemed like an airhead while he waited in line and he confirmed my suspicions.

Last weekend we met the couple that lives two doors down from us. This couple contains the cranky old man. They were very nice and welcomed us to the neighborhood, told us about how “They” want to change our road into a thoroughfare and how we can help block that from happening and gave us homemade ice cream sandwiches. They also talked to us about going to their church. We listened politely and sent them on their way. Today we tucked a thank you note in their mailbox on our way to the haircut appointment. When we got home there was a message from the neighbor lady thanking us for the thank you note and then inviting us to go to church, again. I deleted the message before it finished. I’m so not joining a southern baptist church.

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