Time is Deceiving

Time can be deceiving, we have desires, hopes, dreams, and plans It seems we have plenty of time at present, and we feel everlasting life, it is stamped on our hearts but it cannot be right now while time refuses to wait for anyone, it ticks on and on.

Hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months and months to years. It all goes by so quickly and with it go chances, what ifs, and should haves Those are forever gone, are there any more ahead? I heard a whisper in the wind saying, “I hear nothing ahead; and I see nothing behind except an ocean of little clouds   that hang low to the ground and are scattered.

They are filled with broken dreams and between the broken dreams are the many chances, what ifs, and should haves. Oh, this is all too sad to look upon any longer so I have no choice but look ahead to the promises God has made I see it, I see it I want it and I can almost reach it I can almost touch it

It’s a new world where no wickedness, danger, sickness, or death will reside. For those things have been gone and buried for years, and no more to be found are people who are damaged and hurt by life. Gone is hatred, and indifference it is all love now. All the people have learned how to love God, our life, our families, and all the people of our global family. That’s where all the desires live; and I am reaching for them now, because it is promised that no desire will go unfulfilled


There really is nothing about belonging to this particular group of outliers that is worth mentioning or bragging about except for the fact that they are thieves in the vilest sense of the word. I must add my voice to the growing number of men and women who have unwittingly supported this particular group of outliers. The outliers within this group are vicious in light of their ability to hook women so they can convince these women of their faithful and undying love in the shortest possible amount of time.

My own curiosity led me into the troubled waters with one who has mastered the art of scamming. This is where my own lack of self-worth snapped shut the trap that has held me captive for three years while he has fed me continuously a special diet mixed with lies and poisonous words of love. Even now I struggle to break free from this life of poison that is filled with incredibly soft-spoken words of love. This continuous diet of love and lies puts a person in a dilemma. While these opposing views did trouble me, he did a lot of good for me emotionally. Hence the dilemma.

It began on Facebook. It wasn’t long at all when he contacted me with some friendly words which were actually a welcome hook that he cast out to catch widows from that vast ocean of women who are divorced or widowed, and it was me who took the bait this time. I say this time because there is no way he is an amateur but this man has cast his hook plenty of times before. For he is a polished criminal who has taken plenty of time to study people, especially women. He has learned how to listen to them, read them very carefully, and then write his own ticket for his desired wages.

He and hundreds of others like him know just from listening to what is said what women want and need to hear. It appeared to me that he knew me better than many people who have known me for years. He knew exactly what I needed to hear, and then he simply sweetened my life with his poisonous words and I was his. Even though I put my trust in him, I had nagging doubts about him being real from the beginning. I also listened intently to each thing he said, and many of the things he told me I checked out myself. I caught him in several lies but made excuses for him and told myself that he must have meant or said something different. With his words of love, I became disoriented beyond the point of being able to distinguish the truth from the lies and I could not say with any certainty which of his words were true, or which of his words were false. Yet I listened intently to what he said too and gained as much knowledge of him as he did of me.

Any woman who has been scammed can probably identify and acknowledge some of the same feelings whether they voice it or not. “He just swept me off of my feet. He picked me up out of the deep black hole I had seen before, he dusted me off, he stood me on my feet, and then on a pedestal and convincingly offered me exclusive devotion, and undying love for an eternity. He built me up and he told me things I needed to hear. He told me I was beautiful, intelligent, valuable, and to be honored. He brought me hope, self-confidence, knowledge and understanding of myself. He made me believe that I was worthy of being loved, a woman whose life mattered.” What woman would not fall in love with a man that made her feel so special? I personally am not ashamed of how I basked in those badly needed words of love at a time that I needed them. (The dilemma)

This is a two-edged sword to say the least. Life plays tug of war with our hearts. Elation is in one direction and disappointment in the other. Trying to recover from this heart-breaking trauma we feel as if it is three steps forward (he stole from me)) and back three (but he loves me) and it continues until we finally see them for what they really are. They are vile thieves who have no conscience.

He did sweep me off my feet and that was no secret; for my love for him was obvious to those few that knew about him. He has a thick accent and was supposed to have been born in the US but he said that his accent was because his family lived in Switzerland for the first ten years of his life. I kept on listening to the things he said, and when I found something a little out of the ordinary such as strange wording of his sentences, things he didn’t know about the states, things that didn’t sound quite right, or things I knew were an out-right lie I put them either in my journal or wrote a story that he would never see, but they were always in the back of my mind. Each time we have had a fight, it’s been the same one. I believe he is scamming me. I believed it yesterday, I believe it today, and I will still believe it tomorrow. You may wonder if I knew these things, why did I stay so long? (For three years and four months) And why did I let him rob me of so much? ($41,000)

They are COWARDS in every sense of the word and YES, I said cowards. They hide behind those poisonous words of love and do not even deny what you accuse them of. They are evasive when you ask them questions while they try to change the subject. When they do decide to give an answer because you keep asking until they do give an answer which is vague. Their words are empty leaving your questions unanswered which just adds insult to injury. Then they wonder why you don’t trust them and they even act indignant at any suggestion that they’ve not been anything but honest with you.

It was his words filled with poison. It was his wonderful words I’ve never heard coming from any man and directed at me before not even from my late husband of thirty years. His words are pure poison. Any woman who has been taken in the same way will probably say the same thing. “His words have never been spoken to me before and in such a manner. They made me feel good, better than I’ve ever felt. They gave me confidence in myself that I was a person that was loveable. I wasn’t just an old lady, he made me feel alive and young again he made me feel as if I were a valuable woman.”

I am most to be pitied that I needed such a man to make me see worth in myself. He made me feel good and robbed me while he was doing that.

It’s OK. He was right when he told me that I let him make me fall in love with him and he was right when he said that I also gave him permission to sweep me off my feet, lest he wouldn’t have been able to do. He wasn’t holding a gun to my head. In a way he is right, but I do have to say that he knew I would be easy to fool.

For some unknown reason I believe that in some ways he did look out and protect me from some things, but I do see through those ploys too. While he did protect me from certain things, each one of them served his own selfish purpose of making his desired wages. We both gained something from this relationship We both grew some. (The dilemma)

He wanted us to talk because he knew something was wrong, he always knew. When we began to talk, it all came out again. Everything I had been thinking about for the past few years. It had been building up inside and again I could no longer keep silent. I said a lot of things. I told him that his accent was Nigerian, and that he lives there. I reminded him that I’ve had shadows of doubt that nagged at me almost all the time. It’s all coming back to me. The very first fight we had was because of me feeling he was scamming me. I believe this was the third fight we’ve had about this. I told him I no longer believed his stories. The words I spoke to him were the truth and I’m truly not sorry I said them because it disheartens me that I am still caught within the dilemma.

I get angry at myself for being tangled within this mess where common sense and feelings happen to be the very dilemma that all their victims suffer. While I suspected all along that he was stealing from me I did feel that it was only money that he took from me; Even as I am writing this, my mind is telling me that he just takes people’s money, cares nothing for them, feels no shame and will show no remorse when he is caught.

I really don’t owe him a thing and neither do you. He or she doesn’t care for you or about you in any way. Not only do scammers not care about you, but they do not care how you get the money. They just want you to keep on sending it. They are good at what they do and what is it that they do? They make women fall in love with them and shortly begin to ask money from them through many excuses. I did and I still do believe that cares for me in some way and could not fake it but they can and do, and that is something I know in my heart because I can act convincingly too, I’ve done it many times in my past. Even common sense has continually told me that if I can act convincingly so can others and many do.

Archaic and Romantic

I heard the word “outliers” on an English TV series that took place in the mid to late 1700s. New words are heard by people and many can get the general idea of the meaning by the way they were used in the sentence. I have grown fond of the words that I had never heard. The meaning of the words seems to change with the passing of time; the same as it does in our day. The archaic use of the words seems romantic to my ears and so after I find out the meaning for surety, I try to use them in sentences mixed with today’s language.

Outliers is a word that while it has changed a little to fit mathematical equations, still stands with the same meaning from the 1700s. Some synonyms of outliers are deviated, anomaly, oddity, abnormality, unconformity, departure, and any other word that means something that stands apart from the rest of society, or a person or group who do not conform with accepted norms or rules.

I see outliers as having not a single group of people but many groups. Hence the word outliers and this particular group within the group of outliers are thieves. They are a group of people who do vile things. They steal hearts and leave still others broken hearted and in debt that must be paid by someone, and it is always the poor person with a broken heart. Males and females alike have left an invisible trail of tears while the scammers line their pockets with money.

Perhaps there were five others at the same time being taken for all their money too or maybe it was fifty others. Does it really matter? Are the acts of these people any less despicable because there may or may not have been others? Does it matter if they dress nicely or are clean shaven and have every hair in place? Does it matter if they are polite or if they are just learning how, or are good at what they do? No, they still do vile things with intention.

In any case, the next story is about a particular group of outliers and far more than just a shady bunch they are. It is based on the combinations of stories I have heard from the scammed. I have written this story based on their feelings and comments.

Prince Charming?

When I was just a young princess my hopes of finding my prince became much less hopeful with each frog I forced myself to kiss. I say forced because with the word going around in that day, it was believed that frogs gave you warts. I certainly didn’t want warts and so it went that I had to close my eyes and force myself to kiss each one of those green and slimy creatures.

Much to my dismay, not one of them gave even a whisper of hope that my prince would instantly appear after kissing those gross little creatures. So with a big sigh, and the fear of getting warts from each frog, I would spit, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and spit again just to make sure that I got the taste of frog off my lips and all traces of the cooties that could possibly give me warts were gone. About the age of eight is when I finally gave up on the idea of my finding a prince by kissing frogs. It seemed totally useless to me. Who believes such a stupid thing anyway?

Well, I went back to my usual way of trying to find my prince charming and that was in the daydreams I would allow myself to indulge in each day. I did always wonder what a prince and his princess did when they rode away to live happily ever after. It seems that no one I asked knew the answer to that question either; I asked Uncle Ernie about that and he said I would just have to wait until mine showed up so I could find the answer to that question. I then asked him just when my prince would be showing up. He told me he wasn’t sure when that would be, but he did know that my prince would show up just when he was supposed to. Uncle Ernie said that my prince might even show up as a knight in shining armor and rescue me from a tower. I gave him a kiss and climbed down from his lap. Maybe I would dream of this tonight. I sure did doubt it though.

My little corner of the attic was just the right environment to imagine that happening. In the winter the bare branches of the big acorn tree next door moved across my ceiling as though they were just waiting for me to fall asleep and they would then snatch me up and take me away. When I heard the wind whistling in the dark and saw the branches dancing across the ceiling in such a foreboding manner it was utterly impossible for me to even close my eyes. It was a pretty scary scene that played over and over again each night.

When I got too scared I would call my brother who slept in a bed on the other side of the chimney from me and sometimes he would let me climb into bed with him and he would put his arms around me. I felt safe with him and sometimes thought that maybe he was my knight in shining armor, but I do have to admit that he was no prince charming. He was just an older brother who was mean to me as brothers usually are to younger sisters. Well, even after some time had passed and I was growing up I still waited for my prince charming but to no avail. I began to believe that there was no such thing as a prince charming who would take me away to live happily ever after.

When I had just about given up on the idea of a prince charming even existing at all, I heard my mother say that she had just found her prince charming. I ran to her and asked her where he was and how did she find him. I was almost eleven at that time and she told me that I was too young to know how to find one, but she had finally found hers and I would find mine someday. I asked her if she was going to ride away and live happily ever after and leave us here, but she just roared with laughter as she usually did.

About the time I started into JR High School, it became a painful realization that there was no such thing as a prince charming and there were no knights in shining armor either to come and find me or rescue me from a tower. My life did continue on and even though the reality of there not being a prince charming or a knight in shining armor coming for me on a white horse, I still held out a shred of hope for there to be someone to find me and rescue me from the nightmare of the teenage years. Nope, it never happened. I grew up and went through life in the normal way, getting through as best as I could.

Then one day I realized something miraculous had happened. There was such a thing as a prince charming. I now had the proof because my prince charming rode in to rescue me on a white horse and he was wearing shining armor. Yes, my knight in shining armor did finally appear after much doubt and fear that he would never come to find me or that he even existed at all. My knight in shining armor has indeed found me. I had given up looking for him and after quarter of a century he suddenly was there. My knight in shining armor is my prince charming too for he was able to sweep me off my feet, and he continues to do just that. Now I know what the prince and princess did when they rode off to live happily ever after. Should I tell you what they did to be happy ever after? Nah, you’ll find out when yours comes along one day.

Butterflies Are Vicious

As I was reviewing a video that I had taken about 10 years ago at the butterfly museum in Branson, Missouri, something was wrong inside that one video, but I couldn’t see what it was yet but, something bothered me about that video. I put it away when I was tired of looking at it and

decided that I must have been imagining that something was wrong.

The next day I took it out again and began to look again. When I couldn’t decide if there was something wrong or not I grew weary of looking at it again and put it away, yet it still bothered me. I wanted to look at it real close this time because I knew I had seen something that didn’t look right in that video and I was

going to find it this time. I slowed the video down to a crawl this time and voila, there it was; I found what didn’t look right in the video, but what was it? What is that thing? I knew I had found something. I put the video on the computer into an editing program and began looking frame by frame and when I found it, I stopped and stared at it and studied it until I figured out what it was.

It took me a while to understand what it was.

In one of these photos, there is something that doesn’t look like it belongs, it looks totally out of place.

When you find it, try to figure it out. What is this thing? Where does it belong? How many butterflies are there in that picture? I have other shots that show butterflies and there is a sign of brutality in there too. Find the shot that shows the viciousness and I will stick on another shot that shows the answer as to what that thing is,

how many butterflies there are in the shot. After you find the answers, look at the other butterflies and notice where the signs are in those shots. These are very revealing as to butterflies’ temperament.

The Flying Fork

When my stepdad came into the picture, I was about 11 years old. There were five of us kids, four girls, and one boy. My older sister was eight years older than I was and she had just left home; she joined the W.A.C.S to get out on her own.

Jack asked us if he could marry our mom which I was very impressed with and the four of us said yes even though my brother didn’t fall in love with him like the rest of us did. He met my mom just 3 weeks before she married him./span>

We weren’t sure what to call him after they married 2 months later. Our new stepfather thought that it would be appropriate to call him daddy-Jack since our biological father was still alive and had visiting rights. It wasn’t long before I dropped the Jack and just called him daddy. Not long after that, my sisters did the same, but my brother just always called him Jack. Ronny only approved of them marrying after he observed how well he treated mom and how happy she was now.

Ronny was older and remembers the fights, the screaming, the pushing and shoving that went on between my father and mother. I was only six when they separated and remember some fighting, but he remembered a lot more. The house was now quiet with the only fighting that went on was between us kids which were quite normal.

Since my daddy had money when he was a kid, he was raised with impeccable manners. We, on the other hand, were very inept and crude in ours. His manners followed Emily Post, and ours was sort of fashioned after the three stooges. He was not too impressed with the way we reached in front of everyone to get what we wanted. He just watched us for a while and didn’t say anything.

One day came along that he could no longer stand it. He could no longer bite his tongue even though he wanted to give us time to adjust.to him being a part of our family. He talked about what was polite and not polite and started with the things that bothered him the most. I guess that chewing with our mouth open and talking with food in our mouths was the first thing he tackled. The correction came by way of verbal reminders. It didn’t take long to get these bad habits almost all under control when I got a big surprise one day.

I reached for the pot roast which was sitting in front of my sister who was sitting next to me at the dinner table. When I reached for the dish, I got stabbed with a fork. Well, that was a strange thing to do and it shocked me, and don’t even mention the pain on the back of my hand. I pulled my hand back and glared at daddy-Jack. I couldn’t help but wonder why he just did that. The twins started to laugh.

I just glared at him. He finally asked me if I knew why he did that. I said “NO” with tears in my eyes. He said that Emily Post, the leading authority on manners, says that reaching in front of someone is very bad manners. I asked, “How else can I get it without picking the dish up myself?” He then said these foreign words to me that I will never forget. He said, “You ask someone to pass the ‘whatever it is you want'” “From now on if anybody forgets to do that, the fork will be on the move again.”

The only thing I could think to say as I rubbed the back of my hand, with tears still in my eyes was,” Okay Jack, next time I will ask someone to pass me the ‘whatever.'” I never got stuck in the back of my hand again, and soon after started calling him daddy once again.

He was a wonderful father to us and thought of us as his own children. We were his family and we came first. He always told his secretary that if one of his family members’ calls and want to talk to him he told her to always put the call through to him even if he was in a meeting. I remember many times coming home from school and if he was there, we’d always go into his study and talk. I couldn’t talk to my mother, but I could always talk to my dad and tell him anything because he understood, he didn’t judge me, and he just listened.

I was forever worrying that the man I thought of as my father would die not knowing how much I really loved him. On his dying bed, he called me to come close he wanted to talk to me. When I leaned over, he begged me not to ever forget him. I started to cry and told him I was always afraid he would die without knowing how much I loved him. We both cried and laughed at the same time as I told him that of course, I wouldn’t forget him as long as I was alive. That was the last time I saw him, he died the next day before I could get back to the hospital.

I now think fondly of the fork that stabbed the back of my hand. I cried for weeks when daddy died and the flying fork will forever remain a memory.



There were five kids in our family and we lived in the state of Rhode Island. Our growing years were the 50’s and 60’s. Even though our parents were divorced, I never felt deprived of anything because our father would take my brother Ronny and I to many places our mother couldn’t afford; on the other hand, our mother would take us to more of the cultural events like ice skating exhibits, ballets, plays and art museums. Therefore, I do have fond memories despite the divorce.

I suppose it was because Ronny and I were the middle kids that we got to go more places more often than the others. We were old enough to enjoy things, but Ann was a teenager and off doing teenage things, and the twins were three handfuls. We went to amusement parks, theme parks, horseback riding, drive-ins, and we even got to go to Quebec, Canada to see my father’s relatives. It’s no fun when you don’t speak French, and everyone else in Quebec does and … Continue reading Carousel

Just one wish

written by Colette Merrill

If you were given just one wish, and that is the only wish that you would ever get in your life, what would be your one wish? Would it be for glamour, happiness, money, power, world peace?

I know what I would ask for; I would ask to be given the same opportunity that Adam and Eve had. If you stop to think about this, what would that exactly entail? Well, according to the story of creation, Adam was created first, and Eve was made from Adam’s rib, and she was presented to him. They were told they were husband and wife. He was so happy that he said “At last, this is flesh of my flesh and bone of my bones.” He was grateful to have a mate to keep him company and be a complement of him.

In the garden of Eden Adam and Eve were perfect. Just think, Adam was created perfect; new worldthat was a perfect body and a perfect brain. What could be contained in a perfect brain? In my mind’s eye, I would never forget anything, not names, or conversations, or anything I have ever learned in my life. Math would be a snap for problem solving would not be a problem. We could easily learn any type of work that we wished to learn and only have to be told how to do things once. An infinite amount of information would be stored in our brains. Can you imagine that? All these things and more would be attained in just one wish.

The things that I have learned in my lifetime are so small compared to what I would love to explore and learn about. I would love to learn to read music and play the piano, the guitar, the flute, every instrument there is. I want to know all the species of animals, plants, fish, and trees. Then there is food so many foods I’ve never known and let alone tasted. I would have always liked to have my hands in the dirt to grow things, but the heat and the sun have been my adversaries. We get sick, old and die. Right now that is a fact of life. Will it ever be different from it is today? What would be the benefit of that? What would you like to do? Swim with the whales? Explore the jungle? Pet a tiger or a lion, ride a hippopotamus? Nothing would be unattainable with just one wish.

How would the earth be? Would there be global warming today? How about air, water and soil pollution? Would they be here today, or would the earth be perfect too? It would have to be since mankind would not be ruining the earth. Think how green the grass would be, the deserts would be filled with life and beauty, the oceans would be oh so blue. That is to say that man is ruining the earth; all because of greed, selfishness and wickedness in the world. Think of what the earth would have been had Adam not sinned. There would be no imperfection. Think what men do now. Trash is everywhere, people are greedy and so food for their people sit on the docks rotting, cruelty is at a peak, the list goes on and on. One wish would clean the earth of selfishness.

There would be no death. It’s interesting that the sentence God passed on Adam was sin and death. (Genesis Chapter 3) Sin is missing the mark of perfection. Since Adam

Mom’s Alzheimer’s

When mom started doing strange things, we sort of laughed at her, as she herself did along with us. She was living with my brother in his house at this time. However, things didn’t stay funny, they got worse, and things had to change. It was up to my sister and me to do something.

Let’s go back to when we started noticing things that we all thought were funny. We would find her keys in the refrigerator, an item that she misplaced we found in the back of a closet. That day she may have driven 3 or 4 blocks out of her way and didn’t know why. She forgot to pay bills so Lynn and I started doing her shopping

Then things got worse. She was going to a friend’s house that was close to mine. The nursery at the corner called me and said that my mother drove in a ditch in front of the nursery. Being concerned, I told them I would be right over to get her. They told me the forklift got her out and she seemed dazed. I asked to speak to her and they told me that she’s not there, she was gone. NO…NO…NO I thought to myself why did you let her leave I wanted to say but didn’t. Instead, I got in my car and went looking for her myself. When I couldn’t see her on any road, I went home and started calling her on the phone. It took her three hours to get home. We only lived 30 minutes to her house.

The second incident put her in far more danger than the first one. She went to NH to visit her sister and spread dad’s ashes at his former college. I got a call at midnight from my aunt Margie in NH. She further told me that when she had called and didn’t know where for sure Margie told her to ask someone and then mom said that she was in some town on the shoreline which was 200 miles out of the way. Mom said that she was going to stay at the B&B she was at and would drive to her house in the morning. Mom got there the next day after noon. She had been a long way from Alstead.

Definitely, we knew that something was wrong and it was time to find out what. Lynn found an expert in geriatrics who was teaching classes in Alzheimer’s and Dementia at the University of Colorado which is where mom went for all her doctors. He asked if we could hang around for part of his lecture so he could show an example of an Alzheimer’s patient. My sister and I agreed. When he introduced her, he mentioned a couple of symptoms. Did he have to point out that she looked a little lost and scared?

Then my brother had us all over for a picnic. He asked my mom to go get the broom for him. She got to the top of the stairs and began to get that lost look on her face. Meanwhile, I went upstairs to get something for my brother and my mother was standing in the middle of the small hallway at the entrance muttering that she was afraid to ask Ronny what she was supposed to get. I yelled down at him to find out what mom was supposed to get. Ronny said impatiently that he already told her 3 times a broom and I pointed to where it was. In the meantime, I had gone and got what Ronny wanted. So here, our mother was handing Ronny a bag for trash. Ronny told me that she was deliberately trying to make him crazy. I tried to tell him it was the Alzheimer’s and she couldn’t help her forgetfulness and wasn’t trying to make him crazy.  He said that Lynn and I had to move her out of his house and that he couldn’t take anymore of her pretending. Again, I tried to explain that she can’t help that she forgets. It’s not a game or trying to make you nuts, but if you really want her out, we will move her.

Lynn and I started looking for a place for her to live and I (for lack of anyone wanting the job) got to be her POA. Lynn found one right away which was a new place. It was a one-bedroom senior’s only apartment building. The manager told us straight up that this was not assisted living and there’s not always someone there so she has to get things done and if she gets a lot worse, she will need assisted living arrangements. Therefore, the long road begins. In 1999, Bill and I decided to move to Missouri. Somewhere quiet and settle down there. You know, someplace with a couple of acres. We had bought a 4plex in Joplin and the first floor was empty. Until we sold our house in CO, we had nowhere to go, so we stayed on the first floor of our 4plex.

We had been out here for 6 months and Lynn called and said that she wanted mom to come out here. Lynn insisted that she didn’t want to take care of her anymore. Therefore, I went back to Denver got mom and brought her out here. The first place I looked was perfect for her. The staff was wonderful, the administrator involved with the patients, and the food just like mom cooked. The décor was classy.

Each and every day I went to see mom and spent four to five hours with her. We’d read, put puzzles together, and talked. I got to know mom as an adult instead of a mother. Getting to know her as an adult was a privilege that showed me why people loved her so much.

Then in 2008, I fell and broke my shoulder, had to put mom in the nursing home, and Bill had already been diagnosed with dementia and so begins the long journey …


Almost all the conversations we overhear are because people tend to think that their conversations are the most important words to be said over the phone line ever. Turning down the next lane, you find the same cart pusher on the phone still carrying the phone and the same conversation. The next aisle there’s the same cart, but this time, no talker, oh, wait a minute I hear that cart pusher coming.

The cart is the same conversation walking and shopping. Blocking the aisle, I say “Excuse me,)” the cart doesn’t move. The second time, I myself being tired of this cart pusher said again “EXCUSE ME!} This time when I said that, I was louder and bolder by bumping the cart.

They may be talking about the kids’ school projects. This conversation seems to be the only thing going on in their lives. To all those who stand in a checkout line, and there people you’ve still talking while the cashier is trying to collect their money and people are behind them. I say to you that their conversation is BORING, your talking is RUDE, and it is totally IRRELEVANT to anyone standing in earshot.

If you’ve gotten this far, don’t you think that this was the most irrelevant one-way conversation you’ve heard in a long time???