For the second time in five days I've had to endure listening to a long detailed discussion about colonoscopies. This time, polyps were in play. What IS it with old people and their invasive procedures?!? You know, I do not wish to hear what went up your nether end. Or what had to be removed. That isn't a subject dear to my heart, nor do I spend any time speculating about it, or imagining things. Please keep your arse in your pants!
Out of sight, out of mind. And out of my ears!
As an aside, I should mention that one of the enthusiastic participants is, in fact, a few years younger than myself. And female.
The one thing that all these people share is that they are involved with cigars. I suspect that they also like country music -- there's something depraved about that -- but the common denominator is cigars.
I am a pipe smoker. My experience of colonoscopies is nil.
I do not feel any the less because of that.
Well, the female participant smokes cigarettes more than cigars, but she's probably at heart a cigar maven who listens to country music. Having been twisted by long exposure to all these cheroot huffing wombats.
I no longer go to the tobacco-friendly place across from Bank of America.
And I realize now that's a good thing. Think of the conversations I am missing. Sports. Trump. And snake-like devices with lubricant.
Of course I hear all of that at work anyhow.
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