We sat at the DMV for two and a half hours yesterday (I'm sure I need not explain how completely tortuous that experience is) only to find that the doctor who filled out our physical forms did not check off one tiny box: monocular vision, yes or no? WTF? It was awful.
On the way home we stopped at a grocery store. We thought it was just something generic like a Stop N' Shop. Haha. No. No, it was... well, let's see if I can paint a picture.
When you first approach the store there are shopping carts out front, like any store. But at this one, they are all changed together and you must invest a $.25 deposit to use the cart. Oookay. A little weird. They have "name brand" items, such as Frosted Flakes - but not with a picture of Tony the Tiger. Whole pig ears and skin an ears are available at the butcher. And you can purchase a container of MSG for just $0.99! They charged us $.10 per grocery bag we used to carry our stuff out. But the best part was most certainly our fellow shoppers. We observed one man who purchased nothing but bananas and vanilla pudding. An entire cart load of bananas and pudding. Interesting. 
After this, we decided it was time for a drink. We walked to a bar fairly close to our house, a little Irish place. It was trivia night. Team Suck-It-Monocular-Vision did fairly well. Although not one of us had any idea that the Crickets were, indeed, the backup band for Buddy Holiday or what holy city millions of Hindus travel to every year. Nevertheless, we were tied for third place. We played pool and darts; it was a fun time. Even though a rather nervous and insistent mute with missing teeth kicked us off our pool table after a couple of rounds.
I enjoyed bonding with the others. Especially over gold fish. Not the snack. The fish. We were discussing possibly getting a pet of some sort. I really want a ferret that is trained to beat up cats. My friend used to have one that would stalk the family cat and jump on its back, punching it in the head. I thought it was great. M wanted a gold fish, asserting that they're really easy to take care of; hers has been alive for 11 years. D argued that it's impossible.
D (who has a kinda cute midwestern accent): "There is NO way that you've had a gold fish for 11 years. That's impossible!"
M: I swear! It's this ugly little thing, but it's a miracle fish! I've had it since I was 11.
D (getting emphatically agitated): NO. No, that's ridiculous.
It went on and on. I was laughing my ass off. N and I both agreed that she's probably had several fish over the years and that her parents were probably switching them without her noticing. P concurred.
M: "No! My parents aren't like that. They'd be like 'your damn fish is dead, finally!'"
I proposed that D most likely had a beloved fish by the name of Goldie who passed on rather suddenly and tragic to the big fishbowl in the sky. He was so traumatized that he most likely cried for four months and has never allowed his heart to belong to any other fish. He most likely broke his piggy bank (another few years of therapy) to fund a grand memorial service, burying his beloved pet in the back yard in a rather nice shoebox (it was expensive, but Goldie deserved the best).
I tell ya, when D gives those kids the Look in a couple of weeks, they are going to pee their pants. Laughing.
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