Granny’s Twenty-Fourth Pearl

Pearls of wisdom from an octogenarian who’s seen it all…

I hate being called ‘dear’

I may be as old as dirt. But that doesn’t make it okay for you to patronise me, or not bother to ascertain my name. So many times I have ambled up to a plexiglass screen to be faced by a face with a lot of orange make-up and nothing going on behind the eyes, who will then refer to me as ‘dear’ throughout.

I read the other day about an old lady in Utah, who suddenly got out a gun and blew off a bank clerk’s face. I rather suspect she had been called ‘dear’ once too often 

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