Overheard In April 2014

April was a lovely little month. It was the only month since starting this feature that I did not have to omit anything. I did not overhear anything disturbing. And that is a wonderful thing.

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I was at the hair salon and a woman in her late fifties had just finished getting her hair done. She was glowing. Her hair was bouncy. And so was she.

As she was exiting the salon I stopped her and said, “You look beautiful. Your hair looks great.”

She smiled widely and reached up in wonder to touch her shiny hair. “Do you think so? I think I really love it. I haven’t done something like this in years. I have horses and I have had a long pony tail for twenty years.”

“This feels so nice.”

We wished each other a good day. Her husband pulled up to pick her up and I could see her excitement as she practically skipped to the car.

It was a nice moment to witness.

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I was at the store and a little girl of about three years old was standing next to her mother at the counter. There was a teddy bear being sold above the little girl’s head, it’s fluffy body slouched over near the mother’s arm.

The little girl pointed to the bear.

“Bear?!” She exclaimed.

“Bear!” She said again.

The man checking them out looked down at the little girl and then at the mother and said, “Ha! Does she really want a beer?”

The mother looked confused.

She asked the little girl what she wanted to which the little girl exclaimed, “bear!” She pointed to the obvious stuffed animal next to the oblivious two adults.

“Oh!” They both realized at once.

Then the mother said to the man, “She wants the bear. I’m the one who could use a beer.”

Then the mother and daughter left the store.

Bearless and Beerless.

I know how they feel.

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My husband overheard this recently:

“Would you like to be part of the lunch run?”

“No thanks. I grabbed McDonald’s while I was at Walmart buying ammunition.”

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My family and I went to Disneyland last week. It was very crowded and we took a moment to people watch. We sat on a bench and enjoyed frozen lemonade in the breezy afternoon.

I wrote down the snippets of conversations I overheard as people quickly made their way by us:

“I want bubbles!”

“I need a piece of paper.”

“LOVE! Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.”

“I don’t feel like eating a lollipop.”

“When I first met Holly, I was super, I don’t know… distracted.”

“Someone needs to go hold hands.”

“MOM! MOM!”
“What?”
“You want some banana flavored ice cream?”

“Don’t fall out.”
“Dad! Do it again!”

“It’s basically a liquid churro.”

“Ellie. Not a good choice.”

“Well, this is the happiest place on Earth,” said in the saddest voice.

“Shooting explosion!”

“She got the cricket!”
What?”
“Melanie got the cricket in our room!”

“Don’t wrap things around your neck!”

“So… He went to her room and slept.”

“The password is 55622.”

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I forgot to include this funny conversation I overheard in the bathroom between two very young intoxicated young women in Las Vegas last month.

“I’ve like never been like one of those girls who has planned their wedding since they were like five.”

“Yea. Me neither.”

“I hope it’s not going to be lame.”

“Will there be alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“Oh good!”

“I just like hope it doesn’t rain. And I need to like figure out colors.”

“But will there be an open bar?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I haven’t even like decided what kind of dress I want. What if I like get it too short?”

“Will you be serving booze?”

“YES!”

“Then it will be awesome.”

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We were waiting for a table at a restaurant in Disneyland. Next to us was a party of eight also waiting for a table. We were each given a pager that would light up and buzz when our table was ready. The family had never heard of this before.

“I don’t understand. You’re not going to call my name?”

“No. You have a pager. It will go off when your table is ready,”

“Okay.” The lady sat down next to her friend. They both examined the device.

They spoke amongst themselves,

“Is it going off?”

“I think so. Or maybe you’re holding it wrong.”

The friend went up to the hostess, “I think you gave her a broken thingy because nothing is happening and we’re hungry.”

The hostess looked impatient. “That is because your table is not ready yet. Your pager will go off when your table is ready.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“I understand that, but your table is not ready.”

The friend returned to sit with the other despondent woman. They both sat staring at the little black mysterious device.

Five minutes passed. They argued amongst themselves. “Does that flashing light mean the table is ready? Why couldn’t they just call our name? I think the device is broken.”

Finally, they got up, slammed the pager on the hostess counter and pronounced, “I’m not waiting anymore! This thing is broken!”

The hostess watched them walk away. Then she carefully put away eight menus.

They would have been next!

They missed some good food.

And seeing the device, “go off.”

Instead they were the ones who went off and I showed my children that being patient does pay off.

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And also that their mommy can make chili cheese fries absolutely anywhere.

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Our family was at the gas station and my husband had gone inside to purchase a bottle of water. I was watching the open glass doors to the gas station. I noticed a stocky man with tattoos trailing up his flailing arms. He was having what appeared to be a heated conversation with the gas attendant.

I knew my husband was witnessing the whole thing and I was excited to hear what was going on.

The man exited the gas station and got into a station wagon with a young blonde woman in her twenties. They did not look at each other and appeared to be upset.

When my husband got to our car, I asked him what he had happened.

He said, “that man was just going off on how he didn’t understand women. How his girlfriend had left him and then came back. Then he bought her flowers and she left. Now she came back but moved out. He doesn’t know what she is doing.”

I took all of that in and then told him I saw the happy couple drive away together.

My husband said he assumed that the man was talking to the gas station attendant because they were friends, but when the man left, the gas station attendant said to my husband, “Man. You know you have woman problems when you are telling complete strangers about them.”

My husband said, “You didn’t know that guy?”

And the gas station attendant said, “No. He just came in here and started ranting.”

I used to think hairdressers got all of the dirt. But I am now revising my theory to gas attendant. They must see and hear the craziest things!

Did you overhear anything nice or funny in April? Please share!

If you missed last month’s “Overheard In,” you can find it here.

Overheard in March 2014

I did not actually overhear a lot in March. Okay. That is a lie. I overheard a lot of stuff I felt was too inappropriate to share. One thing in particular I cut out because it involved a young teenage girl. Gotta use my common sense.

It’s in there, I swear.

Somewhere.

With that in my mind, here are some funny or interesting conversations I overheard or took part in in March:

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I find dynamics between women fascinating. When we were eating a meal in Vegas one day, I happened to overhear an awkward woman in her late forties approach the table of two women the same age who were currently all ready halfway through their lunch.

“Hi!” She screeched. And the two women at the table exchanged glances. And I cringed inside for the loud girl.

“How are you doing?” She guffawed. But before they could answer, she immediately jumped to, “Did you hear I got promoted?!”

They acknowledged that indeed they had.

The awkward girl tried to downplay it like it was no big deal, but one of the women interrupted her and said, “It’s obvious you’re really proud of it. You can’t play it off like you aren’t.”

The girl could not take a hint and stood there for a good five minutes longer, looming over their table describing the entirety of her new job and title. She could not seem to sense that the two women were not only not happy for her, but that she had long overstayed her welcome.

After she finally made it back to her own table, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. It was a tough one to witness.

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Yesterday, my family and I went to a falconry lesson (post to come soon). While we were driving home, we were discussing the things we learned and the many different raptors there are in the world.

My son said, “I would really like to see a Golden Eagle.”

To which my daughter replied, “You know it’s not really gold, right?”

My son sighed heavily, and sadly said, “Really? Darn! I really wanted to see that.”

My husband said, “It is more like a brownish gold.”

My son replied, “Oh! So, like a perfectly toasted marshmallow?”

I will never be able to see or hear the words Golden Eagle and not think of marshmallows again.

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We were walking back to our hotel in Las Vegas and a couple was fighting in front of us. Not in front of us, but rather, they were walking directly ahead of us and their conversation was loud enough for me to hear. And not necessarily fighting, but having a loud conversation that neither of them was likely to win.

“You do this every time!” The husband proclaimed. He was neither indignant nor was he sad. Just kind of factual and emotionless.

The wife did not seem to care. “I’ll make it up to you when we get back to the hotel.”

“Great.” The man said in a slightly uplifted way. Meant I am sure to be sarcastic, but the wife was all ready rushing ahead, intent on whatever new pursuit had caught her attention.

The man begrudgingly began to follow her and I was just close enough behind him to hear him mumble, “But you won’t.”

And I wish I had not been that close, because that made me sad.

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I was at a bar with my friends. Wait. That sounds rather seedy and dangerous. Oh? It doesn’t? Okay, good. No need to explain further, then.

There were two young couples in their early twenties seated at a table next to us.

I noticed that one of the four young adults would jump up, tour the bar area slowly and then come back and the next person would get up and do the same thing. It was too loud to overhear what they were doing. My talent lies in observations not in conversations. I was far too shy (and frankly far too lazy) to go to their table and ask them what they were doing.

My outgoing friends had no such qualms. They approached the table and inquired as to their curious behavior.

It turned out that the two couples were in town to celebrate one of the couple’s engagement. They were all old friends and had decided to meet there that night.

The bar had a long wall of paintings and each of them was getting up, picking their favorite painting and coming back to the table. The game was in deciding if the other members of the table knew the person doing the choosing well enough to correctly guess their favorite painting.

It was a cute, innocent drunken game. And I was happy to witness easy fun between friends. Us girls were so much older than the two couples and it saddened my heart to think of the light-heartedness eventually coming to an end as the heaviness of the years takes over.

I hope it doesn’t. I hope their light is trapped within each of them like the oil on the paintings that they each picked. And does not tarnish.

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Speaking of friends. On another night while walking in Las Vegas (oh! My feet. My poor, poor feet. This blog would take on a new tone if they could speak), a trio of men would burst ahead of us. And then stop. Then run. And stop. They were all over the place.

This might have been scary.

Had they not each been under one hundred thirty pounds. In their very early twenties (little boys, really). Dressed in pastels. And had not been so completely oblivious that there were other individuals in the world besides the three of them.

They were yelling back and forth to each other. Somewhere along the line, the three of them got separated (how this occurred is beyond me, as it was a straight walk back to our hotel).

I walked in front of the dark haired young man with the purple pants and blue checkered shirt. His eyes focused. Then refocused on me. “Hey!” He screamed, even though we were two feet apart. “Hey! Have you seen Ferdinand?”

I replied, “I do not know who Ferdinand is, but it is a lovely name.”

He was back to ignoring that I existed and five feet a head of us a blonde haired young man was impatiently stalking.

“Ferdinand!” Yelled the young man. They happily rejoined each other as if they had not been separated for less than three minutes.

“Ferdinand, she doesn’t know who you are! She’s never heard of you!”

They both looked back at me and snickered. I was surprised he remembered speaking to me. The two boys took off running.

I wondered if the two of them remembered their duo had been a trio just moments earlier.

I turned to my husband and said, “Wow! I have never seen anybody drunk act like that before!”

My husband chuckled at my naivety. “Honey,” he said. “That wasn’t alcohol.”

“Ohhhhhhh.” I exhaled. It had never occurred to me that it could be anything else.

And I guess that is a good thing.

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I was at our hotel and a group of male escorts were behind us. I accidentally stopped and one of them almost ran into me. But before the collision occurred, he belted out, “BOOM!”

Which startled me and made me move.

And then chuckle.

Because if that is not the best way to get someone out of your way, I don’t know what is.

Have you overheard anything funny lately? Any good stories to share?

* If you missed February’s Overheard In, you can find it here.

Overheard In February 2014

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You would think in the short month of February I would not have overheard much. But February was a goldmine of delicious overheard conversations.

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We went and saw The Lego Movie (it is very good. My husband and son think it was one of the best movies they have ever seen) as a family. The theater was full of excited children. The following exclamations were emitted from three children in the theater. I would guess they were each around three years old. I think some of the movie went over their heads.

“Mom! You almost made us late for the movie!” As previews had just started and they were sitting down.

“He looks like a crazy elf!” A child screamed when the preview for “The Amazing Spider-man 2” came across the screen. I was not sure if the child meant Spiderman or the villian. But I wanted to shake that kid’s hand for admitting there are crazy elves among us, because we all know nothin’ is scarier than a crazy elf.

SMALL SPOILER! DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPH IF YOU PLAN ON SEEING THIS MOVIE:

“When is the movie going to play again?” If you have seen this movie, then you know at the end there are real people. The little kid could not understand that the people were part of the movie. I wonder if he thought it was just a long commercial… Which, let’s face it, it kind of was.

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My husband and I were eating at a new restaurant in town. We were close to the bar. I could hear the bartender speaking to some people, but I could not believe what I was hearing. When he was passing by I asked him if I had overheard him correctly. He explained that I had.

This is what I overheard:

“My stepdad moved to Alaska when he was twenty years old. He learned how to mush dogs. He bought a team and they led him to a piece of property.

He built a cabin and lived there for thirty five years.”

I was able to get some more information from him after speaking to him. It turns out the stepdad built four different cabins in the thirty five years he lived there. He made a trek into town once a year for supplies. When his pelt business took off, the little planes would fly directly to him to trade supplies so he no longer had to make the journey into town.

When I asked him how long it had taken the stepdad to build the cabin. The young man grinned.

“Four days,” he said.

“Four days!” I exclaimed.

“My stepdad always said it should never take anyone longer than four days to build a cabin.”

It took me four days just to complete this post.

I don’t think I will be moving to Alaska anytime soon.

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My husband and I were at our favorite restaurant for Valentine’s Day. As we were waiting for our table, a big boisterous man walked by us. He was the head chef for the restaurant. He threw open the kitchen doors and cheerfully exclaimed to the other chefs and waitstaff within the room:

“Hello my butterflies!

How are we doing today?”

I think he was having a good Valentine’s Day. In any case, it made me smile.

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Remember when I said I could not for the life of me resist a little girl selling girl scout cookies? Well, two weeks ago was no exception.

“Would you like to buy some cookies?” Asked a little girl of about eight years old. Her freckled little cheeks were bursting with her smile.

“Of course!” I said. I purchased two boxes for eight dollars.

I gave her a ten dollar bill.

“I’ll get her her two dollars!” She excitedly told her mother.

She turned to me and said. “I’m in third grade. I can do math.”

I smiled.

She took that as a sign she should continue,”Third grade sucks!” She exclaimed.

Her mother’s face turned red. “Honey! Don’t say that!”

I smiled and took my cookies and walked away. As I was walking, I heard the mother whispering to the little girl about not telling people that third grade sucks. I was almost out of ear shot.

“Why?! It does!” Was yelled loudly in indignation behind me.

You know what doesn’t suck? Girl Scout Cookies! Man, I wish I did not know exactly how many come in a sleeve and what sixteen minus fourteen is.

It’s still sixteen, right?

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My book club met at a restaurant a few days later. Again, we were seated near a bar. This is going to be the theme for the rest of this post. In fact, this month’s “Overheard In” should really have been titled “Overheard Near A Bar.”

A young man was getting exceedingly loud and obnoxious. I thought I overheard people wishing him a happy birthday.

I told my girlfriends it was that young man’s birthday and asked them how old they thought he was turning.

There were many answers. The general consensus was twenty-four. I thought he was much older.

So, my friend called the young man over and said, “I heard it’s your birthday. Happy birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday,” he responded.

Crap! Well, I can’t overhear right all of the time.

My friend was unfazed. “Well, if it were your birthday, how old would you be turning?”

The young man blinked and then he drawled out, “Is that some kind of ****ed up line to get me to tell you how old I am?”

Again unfazed. “Of course not. I was just curious how old you would be turning if it was your birthday.”

The young man gave his answer, “twenty five.”

The girls were right!

The young man left.

Unfortunately, he came back as he thought this was an open invitation to speak to us happily married older women who were just curious as to the age of the loudness at the bar so we would know when it came to our own children.

My friend had on a hat. He went up to her.

“I like your hat.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

He began a sad little tale, “I tried on one of those yesterday. And my friend said, ‘you can’t buy that hat!’ And I said, ‘why not?’ And he said, ’cause you’re not Irish.’ And I said, ‘But I’m a quarter Irish.’ And he said, ‘Man, you have to be one hundred percent Irish to wear that hat!’

He paused, “I should have just bought it.”

Who knew this overheard conversation would turn into a reminiscent shopping trip and regrets about not purchasing an accessory.

It’s okay bar dude, we’ve all been there.

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My family and I went to a barbecue place in town. They sat my family in the bar. It was lunchtime, so it was fine. There was no one actually at the bar. Just booths being filled.

Diagonal to us in a booth identical to our own, sat three elderly gentlemen in their mid-seventies. They were all dressed handsomely. I could hear them conversing and laughing all through the meal.

It was nice.

Their bill came and the man closest to me reached for it, but the man across from him was quicker.

“Oh, Bill, let me get that.”

“No,” Bill replied. “I’ll get it this time. Besides you’re the youngest. Let your elder treat you.”

They all chuckled at this.

Then Bill softly said, “It was just so nice to get out of the house today.”

The energy and mood of the table changed. It became very somber.

The third man said, “I’m sorry Bill.”

And they were quiet for a brief second more.

Then the youngest among them asked Bill, “How have you been holding up?”

And Bill replied, “You know, surprisingly well.

Surprisingly well.”

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We’ll move on from that elderly group to a cheerful outing of an elderly female group.

It was the same night as the night our book club met Charlie (the hatless fellow).

I looked up from my dinner towards the bar as I heard loud cheering and clapping. I thought perhaps Charlie had gotten his hat afterall. But it was not Charlie in a hat that greeted my eyes when they settled onto the scene at the bar.

At the bar, two people were passionately kissing.

One was a young man of around twenty-three.

The other, an older woman of sixty five.

The bar crowd was going nuts over their embrace.

When they finally broke from each other, a group of the older woman’s friends circled around her and together they all laughed and chatted their way out of the restaurant.

I, being the curious sort who just cannot not pry into other’s business jumped up from my table and chased the women from the restaurant.

“Excuse me,” I said to the woman whose cheeks were still flushed from her adventure at the bar.

“I have to know about that kiss!”

The woman chucked and said, “It’s my sixty fifth birthday today and that young man gave me quite a birthday present.”

I smiled with her and said, “That is so awesome! Happy Birthday!”

She replied, “Thank you! It is my friend’s birthday too and she got the same present!”

I wished her friend a happy birthday as well and I watched the happy group of elderly ladies leave the restaurant giggling like school girls and practically skipping into the night.

I think they must have had a fabulous February.

How about you? Any funny conversations overheard? Memories like the above to share?

If you missed January’s Overheard, you can find it here.

Overheard in January 2014

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January is over. It is now time to post all of the conversations I have heard this month that are interesting. This month was also unique in that I saw quite a few facial expressions that could have spoken a thousand words. Such as this one:

The man behind me at Trader Joe’s. I honestly did not notice he only had two items. If I had, I would have let him go in front of me. Always.

But I did not notice until the cashier was halfway through ringing up my items. I apologized, twice, but only got a tight lipped smile. Then, and this is the best part, as I was loading up my car, I saw him jump onto a motorbike and slip onto his head a Star Wars X-Wing Fighter helmet. I guess I was making him late for fighting The Empire.

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I was at Trader Joe’s and I was listening to the cashier behind me exclaim over the food that was in the woman in her lane’s cart.

“Oh I love this!”

“This is so good.”

“I’m eating this for lunch. Today.”

“This brand is the best!”

Then she laughed and said sweetly to the woman whose food she had been admiring, “Your palate and my palate are friends.”

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My sister banged her elbow on a table. Her son (my sweet almost three years old nephew) came over to give it a kiss to make her feel better.

When she told him thank you and that he indeed had made her feel better, he replied, “It’s all part of the job, Mom.”

So cute.

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My husband and I were at Costco. We were browsing the books. You might not know this, but, um, we don’t have enough of them.

There was an elderly couple leafing through a hardcover book next to me.

The husband said to his wife, “Let’s check. Nope. No pictures. I all ready have this book on my Kindle. There’s no point in buying the paper copy if it ain’t got no pictures.”

I never thought of it that way before. I thought it was amusing. But now I wonder, has there really ever been such a thing? A paperback copy different from the Kindle version?

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This story was told to my husband this week. Thankfully he doesn’t make it a point to hang out in men’s restrooms. The story is so good. I just have to share it:

My husband’s coworker was in the restroom at a pizza parlor with his buddy. They had finished their business and were washing their hands.

My husband’s coworker started drying his hands with one of those new Dyson hand dryers.

He commented to his buddy, “I have got to get one of these for my house!”

Just then another man also finished his business.

He walked by them towards the door, without stopping to wash his hands.

So the coworker said to his buddy, “Or I guess I could just not wash my hands.” And you can probably imagine the tone and conjecture that was used there.

The man left, but came back one minute later. I guess it took him that long to figure it out. Let’s also take a moment to notice that they are still standing there admiring the hand dryer.

The man approached my husband’s coworker and said, “Do you have a problem with me not washing my hands?”

This is where we must also pause to visualize this actually happening in a men’s restroom. And this conversation actually taking place. And we must chuckle.

Okay. Moving on.

My husband’s coworker responded, “Well, actually, yes I do have a problem with it. You just went to the bathroom and then you touched that door on your way out. Then you touched that door again on your way back in. Now I am going to have to touch that door when I leave. It’s disgusting.”

The man said, “Well, what do you want to do about it? Take this outside?”

My husband’s coworker responded, “Sure. But you’ve got to wash your hands first.”

The man got flustered and left.

I will now never not wonder if a hand washing fight is breaking out in a men’s restroom whenever I walk by one.

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I watch the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I know. I know. I have cut all of the rest of them out. Although, I might watch the New York version. The drama and just extreme petty nonsense gets to be much too much. But I love the New York setting.

Anyway, this week, my husband took me to a nice relaxing romantic lunch. While we were sitting, an extremely loud woman decided to take it upon herself to recount the previous episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I heard all of this from five tables away.

This will probably only amuse you if you watch the show. I condensed the conversation quite a bit.

“Oh my gosh! Did you like see the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills last night?”

Without waiting for a reply. In fact, there was not another person who dared to speak at that eight party table during her entire monologue.

“It was like the best episode of my whole entire life.

There is like a whole new cast this season.

Taylor is gone. She like left with a lawyer. But, like Lisa is still on and she is like fighting with Brandy.

There is a new girl, Carlton. She’s like English, too. But like she is not classy like Lisa. All she says is, ‘Bloody Hell.’ Oh, and she is like totally a witch. I know, right.

So, her and Joyce, this other like new girl. She has like really long hair and anyway she like told Carlton she didn’t believe in witchcraft.

And then Carlton went off on her.

And Brandy like held up her hand and was like, ‘Oh my gosh. Carlton just cast a spell on Joyce.’

But then like Joyce told Carlton she just like wanted to live her life in peace. And she didn’t believe in like that stuff.

So Joyce went home. And they like cut to next week’s episode and Joyce’s husband got totally sick that night! And not like real sick. But like sick sick. And like she is totally going to confront Carlton about casting a spell on her.”

This is where she like totally paused for breath and I like totally started listening to my like husband.

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At a winery, I watched a mother who had brought her two year old to the winery (and yes, there were long moments of screaming throughout the tasting room) make her two year old stand outside the doors and wave good bye to the winery.

“Say good bye to the winery.”

“NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“We’re not leaving until you say, ‘good bye’ to the winery.”

“Grbe. Enery.” Big wave while holding a giant Mickey Mouse doll.

Don’t judge.

That’s how I say good bye to wineries, too.

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Did you overhear anything good this month? Are you ready for February?