the older ones

So I met a couple today at work. They are retired. They volunteer part-time at the museum for fun. They are HILARIOUS. A snippet of a conversation I overheard:

"Paul, I'm going to buy two of these stuffed animal fish from the gift shop. Okay?" "
"WHY, Dawn?"
"Well look at them: they're just wonderful. And one's for me and one's for you."
"But I don't want one."
"Too bad! One is going in your car, and one is going in mine."
"But I HATE stuff that just sits around."
"Oh shush. They're CUTE."
"The only thing I keep around because it's cute is you."
"Well then your standards are too low."
"No, they're too high. That thing's not cute enough. Put mine back."
"You old CRANK!"
"I love you too."

::grin::

So I answered the store phone just before close today; an older woman (I'm guessing early seventies) was trying to find a number for the historical society in northwest Wisconsin. She eventually gave up and called us for help. She was very nice, but very frustrated: "I hope you can help me, honey! I searched the Internet using The Google, but all of the phone numbers I found were disconnected. And then a window with four naked men popped up on my screen! Honey, I don't WANT to look at the naked men on the Internet! I JUST WANT A PHONE NUMBER! It's just scandalous that even folks like myself can't get away from the nakedness. I tell you what: the 'net is going to be the ruination of us all."

At this point I'm covering the bottom half of the phone, laughing hysterically, and Evan (the VSR at the admissions desk) is staring at me, trying to decide if I'm laughing or having a seizure...

Here's to the older ones: you make my day.