They were there to see Mary. I know that because they said so. "Is Mary in this one?" "Is Mary coming up soon?" "Does Mary dance soon?" and on and on.

And on and on.

AND ON AND ON.

The nonstop chatter moved from Mary to retirement to walking dogs and back again. It meandered down a path of mayoral election debates followed by a pro Tea Party rant. There was talk of appropriate attire for walking the dog, how great Netflix is, and plenty of words that would make anyone look around and ask, "Did I seriously just hear that?"

You know how sometimes you stumble upon a Facebook update and you're like, "Why the hell did you put those words where others could see them?" THAT. EXACTLY THAT. All those things that make you flinch were said.

Every last one of them.

Out loud.

DURING the dance recital.

It's really very fortunate that the fates lined Alexis' performances up towards the end of the nearly four-hour long recital. The first half wasn't the time for paying attention because CLEARLY it wasn't the time for paying attention. They said so. With all of their words that were about everything and nothing, the two older women who were seated behind us at the recital made it well known that the show wasn't for watching. Rather, the loud music was a nuisance that they had to raise their voices to cover. They chatted and chatted and chatted.

I glared.

The didn't flinch.

I glared again.

Nothing.

I threw more dirty looks over my shoulder than would seem possible, but they just kept on talking.

Frustration mounted. I couldn't understand how they weren't shutting up and began to consider ways to force it to happen. One of the women had a cane, so I thought about ways it could be used to put an end to the talking. Then I considered how we all seem to think teens are so very rude these days, but no. NO. It's the older generation that thinks it's OK to go to a dance recital and talk loudly through the entire thing.

Only, they didn't.

Because at the intermission, I said something. I don't really know what exactly I said because I was flustered and annoyed and trying very hard not to say things that rhyme with duck as I told them to shut up.

Which, really? Why is it that *I* felt bad about even considering asking them to stop talking? Why do we do that? I can't possibly be the only person who falters doing something reasonable in the wake of something so very rude.

But, hey. I said something and the talking stopped. Apparently there are people who have to be told specifically that their behavior is rude. Once you tell them, they stop it.

Just like that.

Thank goodness. If it had gone on much longer, that cane would have been in big trouble.