Earlier this evening, FunkyPlaid and I were at the laundromat, spending quality time together and with our respective reading material.  Two twenty-something San Franciscan males entered and began the most insipid conversation I’ve overheard there, involving how one of them, while living in India, paid someone to do his ironing, a couple of rupees per shirt. I fell in love with FunkyPlaid all over again when I looked over to roll my eyes and he was already rolling his.

I don’t know what it is about conversations in public places, but people are talking louder and louder.  I’ve no doubt that we all talk about things that other people find inane, but I don’t recall being subjected to these conversations at such volume before. As a result, sometimes I find myself nearly whispering to people to compensate.