"I'm lonely." he lamented in desperation.

"I'm lonely." he lamented in desperation. "I'm missing people in my life. I need someone." He turned to face me. I could only stare at him, speechless. He turned towards the window

shopper and said, "You will never be able to afford anything you delusional ninny!" The window shopper limped off. I said, "I know you're lonely, but I think that was a tad

awkward." He responded, "You don't know what I've been through. Those window shoppers--you know who they are? They aren't who you think. They are heinous psychopaths."

It was like 2008 all over again. Shades of bubbles bursting. He had quit reading the newspapers. Too many businesses had shut down over the past year. His was perhaps next.

Not since those nice English boys had highlighted our plight has it been this bad. Selling shrubberies is a big gamble with your life, family, and sanity. Then, on top of that, the

bastards have that irritating verbal tic. I think they find non-sequiturs amusing? I won't be buying my shrubberies from them in future, I can tell you for sure. I'll be buying

them at Adele's Huge Bush Emporium. If Grandad was always satisfied when he went to Adele's Big Bush, that's good enough for me. I think. Hedging my bets, I visited Adele and asked

what was going on in her Huge Bush Emporium. Adele had no clue what I was talking about. Nor did she know who my grandpa was. Clearly granddad was hiding

the salami somewhere and it wasn't in grandma's garden. Adele looked at me and I at her. I pointed out my granny behind the counter of the Huge Bush Emporium. "A Grammy winner," I