What kind of hat do roosters wear?

I was not selected for jury duty.  In fact, I was never even selected to go to a court room for prospective selection.  All of which was fine with me.  I took my lap top as I told you I would, and I got so much done.  I wrote 7 pages on the new chapter.  It was the first real writing I’ve done in weeks.  It got me back on track , out of my head, and onto paper.

Paper good.  Head bad.

One thing I was disappointed with during my tenure of civic duty was the total lack of weird people.  Seriously.  When one goes downtown, a person has certain expectations.  I expect to see weird people and lawyers.  Maybe some lazy and rude government workers.  I realize I’m working with cliches and generalizations but history has proven the rules, not me. 

I saw not one single crazy person arguing with themselves or an inanimate object.  This is unusual.  It’s winter.  That’s when the best crazies come out.  I may sound mean, but think of the desert as the south and under-medicated crazies as the birds that fly there.  Every winter they flock here to the warmth – pun intended.

The only person I had any problem with whatsoever was an old man who wore his Know-it-all Hat.  And he wore the hell out of it.  All day.  He lectured all who would listen on every single topic and after lunch he took the opposing stand on several of his most vehement opinions.  It was almost unbearably annoying for someone who was trying to concentrate on the voices in her own head. 

At one point, I must have huffed louder than I thought because I caught his attention. 

He swelled all up like  an ancient rooster and said, “What?” as if he was a 17 year old ruffian and not a septuagenarian with a walker.

I chuckled, shook my head and replied, “I’m just exhaling.”

My Honey has said for years my exasperated huffing and puffing was going to get me in a fight.