I miss gossip

One thing I enjoyed while living in the small town in the Ozarks was, anytime I wanted to know what I was doing, or thinking of doing, all I had to do was head down to the local gas station. :ROFLMAO:
 

I love hearing crap about other people. But here is the thing, I hear it and it stops there. I'm not one to continue the gossip. I know and that's all that matters.

Now talking sh*! about some people, that's another matter.
 
My mom was always the subject of gossip; when she was young because she was beautiful (they'd say "promiscuous," to put it mildly), and when she was older because she was knowledgeable (they'd say "a know-it-all").

But I'm pretty sure she kinda liked being the subject of gossip...I'd see this sinister little smile cross her face when the chatter started heating up. Maybe because it gave her a sort of notoriety, and she liked being in people's heads, or maybe because their gossip always came back to haunt them. Or probably both.

If the gossip was what she considered evil, gossip with the potential to actually put a hex on her, she'd do this hand gesture called the mano fico, where you make a fist with the tip of your thumb sticking out between your index finger and your middle finger, and then you just casually walk past the person doing all the evil talk.

Could be a friend or relative, could be a total stranger, didn't matter. I've seen mom doing the mano fico while we were out shopping at the mall. And sometimes she'd whisper sharply, "Mickey! Stop looking around!" ...because, apparently, the mano fico defense didn't work if I looked at the person doing the hexing. o_O

(my nickname was Mickey)
 

One thing I enjoyed while living in the small town in the Ozarks was, anytime I wanted to know what I was doing, or thinking of doing, all I had to do was head down to the local gas station. :ROFLMAO:
this place was very much like that until the last 10 years, when they've built a whole load of new homes, and incomers are all out of towners , so now it's not as bad as it once was
 

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