Is it my mole or the neon lights?

I have a tiny mole on my forehead which my bangs cover. I am almost convinced that it is a magnet for crazy people. No kidding!

I attended a St Louis Writer's Guild workshop today. Jeffrey Penn May presented on the difference between literary and commercial fiction. The writing exercises were fun and thought-provoking; made us dig deep. By late afternoon I was starved, so Bill and I decided to go to the "boat" for the buffet. We swore we wouldn't drop a nickel in the one armed bandits, but we lie to ourselves as much as we lie to each other. "I only lost ten bucks :) How about you?"

Anyway, we were enjoying our meal when a strange woman walked up to our table with a plate of food and standing before us, had a lengthy one-way conversation. "Even if they pass the test, ain't no guarantee they're going to get the job." She rambled on and on. "And them boys coming all the way from Missouri to Illinois at that!"

Now, the boat is directly across the river. Missouri is on one side of the Missisippi and Illinois on the other. We nodded at her and went back to eating; she moved on, no boys with her!

After our meal, Bill said, "I'm going to the bathroom. Meet me at the door." I knew better. After a five minute wait, I found him seated between two older caucasion women at a cluster of three slot machines. Their backs were to me. The white haired woman on the left leaned over and whipered in his ear. Then the white haired woman on the right leaned over and whispered in his other deaf ear. He nodded at each one, unaware of what he was actually nodding to, and he smiled at both. I walked up to let these old cougars know he was taken. The one on his left was about 67, toothless and wicked ornery. She looked at me hovering over his shoulder. She looked me up and down with disgust and shouted, "Is she your mother?" referring to the other woman. The woman on his right, who was about 77, looked at me and sweetly said, "I told her to be quiet! She's carrying on something awful."

Old Woman on left hit a small jackpot and squealed like a banshee. Old Woman on right, so irritated, imitated the other one's screech, and in so doing her dentures almost flew out. She shoved them in and spoke to Bill. "See what I mean about her?" Woman on the left screamed, "You don't have the right to talk to him about me or to tell me to shut up!" Old Woman on the right screamed in a gutteral voice that scared the crap out of ME, "I do too!You just shut up!" Old Woman on the left, screamed,
"You want to come over here and make me shut up!"

Bill's beady eyes widened and he shoved his chair back just as three burly security guards came to quell the two old battle axes. I swear, it's that little mole on my forehead. The younger securtity guard assured me it was the neon lights that draws them.

Not one word of this is embellished!