Actually, MOST days are slow for me anymore. Sometimes it feels like a blessing and sometimes a curse. The missus had “lunch” at 9:30 again this morning. Amusingly enough, it was eggs and sausage, but she called it lunch anyway. That probably means that she hadn’t been asleep since well before daylight and it felt like the middle of the day to her. She’s the cook, so she can call it what she wants.
We went to the Chinamart on the far side of town today and they still didn’t have any saw palmetto, if they ever do. I can’t ever get a chance to ask the druggist if they even carry it, since they’re either busy filling orders or talking to one another and deliberately ignoring people they sense have questions. They aren’t like that in our “home store,” thank goodness. Folks on that side of town tend to be “different;” I won’t say more, since I have some friends and relatives over there.
The number of immature people in the world never ceases to amaze me. I stopped at a gas station across from the store to get a money order and some woman, nearly our own age, pulled up beside us with her window down and her radio blasting. She then proceeded to go inside and leave her car running and the radio roaring until she came back out again. The missus asked me what ailed someone like that and I told her that the woman was just a female version of the guys you see with tattoo sleeves, long hair, loud motorcycles and their radio blaring. Those fellows are little boys at heart, jumping up and down hollering “look at me; look at me!”
A little ways down the road, a guy with a Ford dually was coming at me and tromped the gas pedal, roaring his engine up the grade and blowing black smoke everywhere. The missus asked about him, too. I told her it was the “look at me” thing again, PLUS, he thought that he was showing me that he had a “rougher” truck than I had. Frankly, I’m glad that my truck doesn’t smoke like that. Also, I’m old enough to know that my truck will still be tooling down the road after he long ago spent thousands of dollars keeping his running and STILL ended up having to scrap it. Maybe he’ll grow up someday, but those kinds of guys usually don’t.
The missus has been glued to the TV ever since we got home, since PBS is running a Downton Abbey marathon as they beg for money. It was a good series, and I would watch it if they ran it AS A SERIES. However, I refuse to be held captive 24/7 by even a GOOD television show.