I overheard a conversation while eating breakfast at a small town diner. A small town in which I was raised, where I lived a happy, productive, and easily above average life. While my memories of said small town are fond, I’m comfortable in stating that the world has more to offer than can be found in this small town. A resident may become defensive at that statement, rightfully if I were offering it as an attack, but I submit to you the following overheard statement as evidence that I am observing fact when I state that small town normal isn’t normal in the aggregate. I’ll offer all the context I have, but it likely will make it even more difficult to stomach (see what I did there? I was eating when I heard this! Get it!?!):
While enjoying my grits, eggs, coffee and biscuit, I had no choice but to hear the conversation between two late middle aged women three and four tables down (they were not dining together). They were discussing recent battle wounds from lumps in their respective breasts when one says* to the other:
“He stuck a needle in my breast and it looked like snuff spit coming out”
Let’s just say that the volume of food on my plate at the moment when that phrase left her lips and entered my ears was reduced not by a morsel.
*I’m not sure what term to use to describe something between a yell and the volume one would use while discussing sensitive information.
