Sharon's Blurb

  I was sure my ears were bleeding. I was sitting in the waiting area of a local mechanic shop, innocently getting a new bulb put in my left rear brake light, when the words coming from a back office hit the fan. Fuck this, and fuck that, and fuckin', fuckin', fuckin'. I felt assaulted. Violated. There I was, a paying customer, minding my own business, reading a book on my tablet, patiently waiting, when someone might as well have clobbered me on the head. That's how shocking and disturbing it was. I didn't say anything; just glanced up and at the woman at the reception desk. She was nonplussed. I guess this happens all the time. I had heard it during a previous visit while in the same waiting area.   Sounded like the same male voice. Should I say anything? I didn't. I let it slide. A few days later as I was entering a grocery store, some construction workers were putting up a scaffolding to do some work on the exterior. And the...