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"A fool finds no pleasure in understanding but delights in airing his own opinions."
Proverbs 18:2

Tonight marks the end of Fleet Week and the boys set sail tomorrow. No more tight white uniforms trolling the Downtown clubs looking for action. Ahoy Sailors. Until next year.

Once upon a time there were three girls who worked the late shift at a high end designer department store on Central Park South. One, a forty something divorcee Christian devoted to skin care, desperately seeking a humble and hardworking husband, bitter towards most men and loathes New York and co-dependency. Two, a bright eyed dynamic mid thirties musician and dreamer, a self-proclaimed flame in which men (moths) can't help being drawn towards, and whose M.O. is to maximize the minimum . Three,  a much too young to feel this old married adventurer with a grounded foundation looking for the most out of life, and hitting a few detours.

Together, they passed the hours frying their brains under the recessed lighting.

 The two seasoned retail women advised the latter.

-What are you doing in New York? It will suck the life out of you.

-Your marriage is going to fail.

-One night, you'll be out with your girlfriends exploring/drinking and whoops you'll sleep with someone.

-Open your mind to the Divine, and you will meet all ethnicity's and find a common bond.

-You need to think of yourself as a Golden Diamond Angel

-He may tell you he's a Christian, but he's doing his Rosary behind closed doors.

-If any women puts her arm around a man to soothe him, she is mothering him and it's not a healthy relationship.

-All men just want to be God.

-You should just leave Manhattan, go home, have children, and write about that!

Uh-huh, and the crazy talk continued until the registers closed.

 The third woman stood there listening saying a silent prayer to herself. And then thanked them for their experienced advice. 

But she had a head on her shoulders. Not only is it pretty, it's sane. Or some version of it.

The place is a madhouse
Feels like being cloned
My beacon's been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go
Now that I've gone too far.

My whole life spins into a frenzy...Golden Earring

Is this the twilight zone?