In the city people talk. A lot.

I’m still not accustomed to the verbal diarrhea New Yorkers tend to contract.

On the bus, I listened to an elderly woman brag that her retirement home has a bar, while nothing that her doctor has already told her not to drink. “But who cares, when you get to be my age…”

A Long Islander seated next to me on a plane admitted that he’d had an abortion, then proceeded to “convert” the Jewish man beside him.

A woman at Atlanta Hatfield Airport (she was from New York too) told a stranger that her husband left her for an elderly millionaire.

“Well, you know how that goes!” she giggled nervously.