Random May, or May Not

I was sitting in a coffeeshop, next to two tables full of people speaking in various languages other than English. Each table sported a hand-written, block-lettered sign, designating which language was to be spoken by that particular gathering. The one closest to me read, "FRANCAIS." So it was a little disconcerting to see the individual leading the discourse at that table to be barking in German. The others stared apprehensively. Someone had become very upset at this otherwise amicable bi-lingual encounter group.

At the next table, the sign read, "ESPAÑOL." At least there they were speaking in the tongue that coincided with their sign. Then a new participant showed up; a woman blinged out beyond comprehension, with big hair and long nails, who greeted everyone in an awkward attempt at Spanish, with her volume knob turned to eleven. To make herself just a tad more insufferable, she liked to accompany her topic points with rhythmic clapping of her metal-bedecked fingers. "Mu-cho-gu-STO!" Whack-whack-whack-whack.

So we had Mega-Lung Bling-a-trix at the Spanish table, and Hermann Goering having a bunker meltdown at the French table. I sipped my coffee as inconspicuously as I imagined possible.

Then something remarkable began to happen... one by one, the non-talkers began to excuse themselves. In about twenty minutes, both squeaky wheels were down to one conversational partner at their respective tables. The loudmouth knocked it down to a respectable decibel level, and began speaking English. Meanwhile, the angry Teuton likewise reverted to The King's, and seemed a degree saner. And both seemed to default to the same topic – the colleges they'd attended, the countries they'd visited, and the advanced degrees they were hoping to earn.

The people who'd begged out of the conversations, were the native speakers of each language, who'd politely indicated they'd had enough.

Never have Americans with advanced educations made this college dropout feel so hopeless. The big-hair lady glanced at me, then smiled. I pretended I was deaf.

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DAMN POETRY CORNER

I had an old dog dumber'n crap
Way too big to get up in my lap
Sniffed on my face when I took a nap
Dang old ugly mutt

When he was a pup I named him Blue
A question-mark stare and breath like glue
His hobby was makin' piles o' poo
Dang old ugly mutt

He died and I dug a garden plot
'Neath his old favorite shady spot
You should see now all the flowers he's got
Dang old ugly mutt

When I move on to my home in the skies
Won't be quite Heaven no matter how it tries
Unless I'm greeted by those vacant brown eyes...
Dang old ugly mutt