Last Friday I took Harry's Caddy down to the dealership to have the tires rotated and oil changed. I decided to wait for the service in the miniscule and rather uncomfortable waiting area designated for those of us with car problems.
An older, bleached blonde woman sat to my right, talking loudly to an older gentleman at her side. "The media's all evil."
I shuffled nervously and tried to tune her out as I pulled out my notebook and began writing a book review for VoiceboxX.
"They just feed off people," she said, repeating her disdain. "I mean, that Tom Cruise was paid, like, four million for pictures of his baby, and, I mean, who cares?!"
She crossed her legs importantly and a flash of rhinestone bounced off my eyes from her bespeckled faded jean jacket.
"Who cares?!" She looked around to make sure the waiting room was at her attention. I grasped my notebook tighter and tried to come up with nice words for a not-so-nice review.
"I mean, come on..." She recrossed her legs. "I heard they were separating, anyway..."
I bit my tongue to not guffaw out loud.
People, especially self-involved and over-opinionated people, completely crack me up.