Once again, Val had the nerve to assert her customership, and interrupt a lengthy conversation between a cashier and the customer ahead of her. This time, it was in the Backroads Country Mart. I leaned on my cart, and refrained from tapping my toe. I DID eavesdrop. It's not like they were keeping it hush-hush.
This is the oldest cashier, who works the short line. Sometimes she's the only one working. Hick has befriended her. He says she's 81 years old. How he knows that is a mystery. Surely he didn't ASK her age! Or cut her open to count the rings. She has a really gruff voice due to some kind of surgery many years ago. She does not look 81.
CASHIER: "I'm waiting for animal control to come back. They took seven raccoons and two possums."
CUSTOMER: "Did she have babies?"
CASHIER: "Uh huh."
CUSTOMER: "Coons are crazy about protecting their babies!"
CASHIER: "I just want to sit on my front porch and relax, without raccoons running up and biting me."
Once the customer grudgingly wheeled her cart out of the way, I tried to be friendly to the cashier.
VAL: SEVEN raccoons! That's a lot."
CASHIER: "I got bit. Had to have the rabies shot. After the second raccoon bit
me, the county health center said the shot is good for three months."
Alrighty then! I, myself, might have quit sitting on the porch after being bitten the first time. But what do I know? I was bitten by a chipmunk, and the county health center didn't know if they carry rabies, so just gave me a tetanus booster.
I would swear that CASHIER told CUSTOMER that animal control "...let
them go over the state line."
Surely that's a mistake. That would be
quite a drive north, south, or west to a state line. East runs into the Missisippi River about 30 miles over, as the crow flies, and I wouldn't call it a
state line. Or think a raccoon-capturer would toss raccoons into Old Man River.
Maybe I need to work on my eavesdropping skills.
As I typed up this tale, I thought of another one that had slipped my mind.