Recently, I have found myself the innocent bystander to the opposite of publicly displayed affection: The very publicly displayed argument.
Two weeks ago, I rolled into a “Plain Jane” diner in my neighbhorhood for breakfast – a dive I fancy for its delicious coffee and magnificent waffles. Well, no sooner had I finished “15 minutes” of my clock-shaped waffle, I hear the following words from one of the two women in the booth behind me:
“I may be pregnant but at least I’m not a cokehead!”
My Midwestern manners kept me from turning around to catch the inevitable facial reaction. However, I could hear a murmur of tussling in the booth as our (accused) cokehead heroine grabbed her purse and left the establishment. I am assuming she left her pregnant friend to foot the bill. Typical behavior for a cocaine addict, in my opinion.
Unfortunately for me, I was 3-Deep into that previously-mentioned waffle to catch the upswing of this disagreement, so I was left wondering how a nice Sunday breakfast goes from “Hey, let’s have eggs and bacon together after church this Sunday,” to “You wanna keep the shit real? How about we substitute that bacon for Jerry Springer-style revelations on my lack of contraception and your ever-present nose dust?”
Bam, you just got served…