OLDnFEEBLE's Blog

It’s lunchtime at the office and so there I am at the communal microwave heating up my chicken breast leftover from two days ago. Right by the microwave is a table with two women from some downstairs office eating their lunch.

They have been here before when I was warming up my lunch fare. The snippets of their conversation I’ve overheard revolve around the usual gab between the “I’ve-been-married-for-thirty-two-years” greyhead and the “I’ve-been-married-for-eighteen-months-ooooo-he’s-so-wo
nderful” blonde nitwit.

There’s the yammering about the way Uncle Fred beat up his wife, countered by the yarn about a second cousin on my mother’s side in TDC for attempted murder. (Gez, will this freakin’ chicken EVER get hot???) That’s followed by the HUGE sale Penny’s had this weekend and the encounter with the snotty clerk at the Antique Flatware and Dish Barn out on Highway 80.

Today’s BLEEP-for-tat swap took the “fish sticks”, if you will. First, they try to decide if the Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks come in the blue and white package or is it the “Gorton’s Fisherman”?

“Well, anyway, I like her’s better than his.”

GIVE ME A BREAK. Mrs. Paul is not a real person and neither is Gorton’s fisherman!!!

Bend over and kiss your fish sticks good-bye. There is no hope for the human race!