Crazy old men in laundromats...

So I have decided that this is a good place to rant about thing that annoy, amuse, or otherwise tickle my fancy in my rather boring, but sometimes interesting, everday life. So now beginneth the ranting.

So I was at the laundromat today, minding my own business watching my pink underwear swirl around the glass in the dryer, yet again. The was this little old man sitting in a chair near me and he had that shifty look about him, like he wanted to talk but was unsure of how to interrupt me while I was writing my letter (as I am known to do while at the laudromat). So I tried desperatly not to make eye contact with said little old man, so as to avoid awkward conversations I didn't want to have with strangers. But to no avail. He didn't take the hint, and started talking to me anyway.

He wanted to know my opinion on same sex marriage. I claimed to have no opinion, in a feeble attempt to deter him from further interrupting my letter writing, but again he didn't take the hint. He said it was wrong. He had been married and raised 3 kids and thought that was the purpose of a marraige and what two men have is not a marriage and why do they have to call it that. I will put emphasis on the word HAD because he wasn't wearing a ring. Why me, you ask? I have no idea. Perhaps he sensed the redneck Albertan in me, and believed that I, like King Ralph and himself, was against same-sex marriage.

But I feigned interest in what he was saying so he'd stop talking ot me and I could finish my letter. And because I felt it would be rather cruel to rip a strip off a little old man in a laundromat by poking holes in his inane theory, and telling him all the reasons I believed that same-sex marraige is okay, and maybe even a good idea. He left me alone eventually. But I don't think I'll just let that one slip by me next time. So to all the future little old men in laundromats that want to have politcal/religious/philosphical/family value descussions with me when I'm trying to write a letter to my mom while my pink underwear swirls endlessly around the glass at the front of the dryer, you have been warned.