This morning I was eating breakfast in my local BBQ joint because none of the women in my life have ventured to the grocery store in the last couple weeks (don’t judge me, I’ve been busy).  The first part of the meal went as it normally does, drinking coffee, checking email, ignoring everyone else in the building that isn’t bringing me food.  About 10 minutes in, the regular breakfast table of the local crew of grumpy old fucks stately retirees suddenly got much louder than normal.  These guys argue every morning (most meals end with them agreeing they hate each other) but today it was louder than normal.  MUCH louder.

When I started paying attention it was going down something like this:  Fat Fuck stood up to inform Skinny Fuck that Jim’s property isn’t that damn big and there’s no way it reaches all the way to that road A.  Skinny fuck smirked at Fat Fuck and in a quiet cocksucker bashful tone replied that he didn’t have time to teach an idiot geography.  Black Fuck started laughing at Skinny Fuck’s remark so Fat Fuck (still standing over the table) requested to know just whose side Black Fuck was on.  Before Black Fuck could answer Fat Fuck screamed he knew the property was attached to road B because he’d been walking those woods his whole damn life.  Black Fuck reminded Fat Fuck that he has lived 5 miles away for the last 50 years and he’s never known him to walk farther than from the truck to the door.  Fat Fuck, unable to disprove Black Fuck’s theory, did what most old men do when they’re wrong, he ignored the comment and continued attacking Skinny Fuck.  Skinny Fuck asked how in the hell a piece of property attached to road C could ever be attached to Road B?  Fat Fuck replied “because the world is all fucking attached [Skinny Fuck].”

So far I was pleased with where this was going:

1.  Because I seemed to be the only one not at the table actually paying attention.

2.  Because old men where yelling obscenities in public.

3.  My eggs were really good today.

What I didn’t expect was for it to get even better.  Up to this point I hadn’t noticed that Fat Fuck’s son was sitting at the end of the table eating and ignoring.  He was wiping the remnants of his last bite off his face as he leaned into his bag and produced an iPad.  Within seconds he pulled up the satellite image of the area overlaid with property lines and parcel numbers.  As Fat Fuck’s son’s leaned over the table pointing at a particular area on the iPad screen he uttered three simple words, “You’re both wrong.”  Then the son sat down at his chair and giggled with Black Fuck as Skinny Fuck and Fat Fuck pouted in silence for the next 5 minutes.

The iPad did what man could not.  It told an ignorant old man to shut up and sit down, and he did it.