So Tuesday night I was at my dance class...

...okay, so it's not a conventional dance class. We all wear hipscarves with coins that jingle jangle jingle, if that gives you any idea. We're a motley lot of folks. Some very young, some eligible for AARP, and most of us are somewhere in the middle. It's surreal sometimes, but I get a kick out of it, and I meet up with two of my favorite people from Big Company, so I'm still getting to see them there, at least.

There were several shocking revelations tonight. The regular teacher wasn't there so someone else led the class, and I figured her for, oh, mid-50s at the least, possibly early 60s. At some point, she said she is 42. I was gobsmacked. Surely not. This county is apparently very hard on women.

Note to self: determine never to seem like a local.

The other shocking outburst came when the daughter of the 42 year old started talking about working the late shift at Whataburger, and how people pull up to the drive-through window in various stages of intimate acts and all manner of the stages of undress. *aherm*

I could have done without that. She went on to say a friend of hers came through the line, passenger in a vehicle where she was giving oral pleasure to the driver. This I could have done without, as well.

The real doozie was when the 60-ish woman said "I did that to my husband. I think it was in the drive-through of a Taco Bell."

Really!

I'm no prude, by a long shot, but I'm dazzled people would speak so casually about such things in front of strangers.

And, uh, yuck! If you're going to debase yourself by doing naughty things in semi-public, at least chose a less down-market theatre for your exploits. Then again, it may have been the perfect setting.

Again-- more information I could have lived a full life without having heard.
I thought I'd pass it along and ruin your day, too. :P