Locker room talk (ugh)

I walked into my gym locker room today and a man was on his cell, talking to his wife about retractable awnings. It was one of those calls where, though I only heard one side, I could tell she wanted him to do something he didn't want to do, but he was agreeing to anyway. Relatable as hell. After the call's conclusion, he said, to the only person within earshot (moi) that she "always calls at the wrong time." Fuckin' awnings, amIright?

I kept my back turned. I wanted to shake the man and scream "AT LEAST YOURS IS STILL ALIVE, DUMBASS!" But I have that social awkwardness thing, so I wasn't saying shit. Death has a way of showing how petty petty shit really is.

Petty shit is really fucking petty, folks. I would give my left eye and right kidney for an inopportune phone call from my wife about retractable awnings.

When I turned around with my antisocial earbuds in, I saw that he had a good 20 years on me. Is it wrong that I feel wiser than him? If you have a significant other available to hug, and are reading this, go give them a big fucking hug for no reason. And tomorrow, do it again, and the next day. Because overnight, they could have a heart arrhythmia or brain aneurysm, and you might never get another chance.

If you really don't want to give them a hug, dump/divorce them and go find someone worth hugging, even when their petty awning phone calls annoy you. My wife died at 27. I don't know how else to make it clear that life is short. One of you will die first, and then you won't give two shits about awnings, retractable OR stationary.