I clawed my way to another birthday this week. As the journey continues, it’s now more like square-dancing in a minefield than ever before, but here we are.

Along life’s orange-coned highway, I’ve picked up a few bits of knowledge: 

Food tastes better heated up in an oven than in a microwave. 

David Lee Roth could annoy a mosquito.

Tony Soprano dies at the end of the Sopranos – accept it.

Saturday Night Live’s Pete Davidson was beaten up by Betty White in a bar fight.

One bit of knowledge that wouldn’t fit neatly on a list is the idea of pretending you didn’t hear it when someone says something ridiculous. Why? Because it’s in our nature to correct craziness when we hear it, but more often than not, your protests will fall on deaf ears.

About a week before Christmas, I was standing in a checkout line waiting for someone who was trying to pay for $3.28 in merchandise with Cash App. For those of you who don’t know, Cash App is a way for Millenials, transients, carnie folk, and ne’er-do-wells to use their phone as a form of electronic currency. 

I’ve never seen Cash App actually work in a brick-and-mortar store, although the person trying to use it seemingly has no problem taking half an hour trying to make it work while the line at the cash register back up to Wyoming.

No matter how many times they say “I know there’s money in there”, it never works at the cash register. Ever.

I’ll grant you that writing out a check for a pack of gum is old hat, but folks we hit the zenith of the retail experience with the debit card. There is no need for further research and development in this area. I smell tomfoolery with this idea that there is a shortage of currency in circulation, so when I see a sign that says “debit or credit card only”, I offer folding money as payment. I’ve yet to have it refused.

So there are seven of us in line waiting for the spawn of Bill Gates and Steve Jobs to get her Cash App to link up with a satellite floating in a galaxy far, far away. At one point the Cash App accidentally started the launch sequence of a nuclear missile hidden in a silo out west. The boys from Seymour Johnson had to come in and debrief all of us before the purchase of the apple cinnamon press-on nails could be completed.

Avoid the box store blues with a visit to Blizzard Building Supply at 405 Walston Avenue, Kinston.

While this was going on, the boyfriend/husband of the Cash App lady was getting very annoyed at his better half. Seeing him getting annoyed, I heard a man in line behind me say, “she’s going to be in the dog house when they get home”, to which a woman further back in line said, “only men can be in the dog house.”

I was shocked to hear someone say only men can be “in the dog house”, although I shouldn’t have been. Most television shows and commercials currently airing depicts the man as the dope in the scenario. Show me one commercial where the wife buys the wrong fabric softener or spills ketchup on her new blouse. I have plenty of time to wait; the person in front of me is trying to use Bitcoin to buy a bag of Doritos.

Bannister’s Fine Gifts is located at 106 West Railroad Street in La Grange.

As the ‘women can’t be in the dog house’ debate raged behind me, I felt the urge to jump into the fray travel from my meager brain to the tip of my tongue. I put my hand over my mouth much in the same way I do whenever I see Jonah Hill onscreen – you know, to stifle the scream. But this time I couldn’t help myself.

“Explain to me why only men can be in the dog house?” I asked.

What followed was top shelf word drool of epic proportions, and this was mainly from men who seem to have fallen under the spell of the social engineering put forth by the advertising industry. From the back of the line, an older gentleman who had a few miles on him waved me over.

“Don’t waste your breath son,” the man said. “Most of these guys spend more time on their hair than their wives do.”

When I was a kid I always wondered why older folks had a general look of confusion on their faces. I’m beginning to understand now.

Jon Dawson’s books are available at http://www.JonDawson.com.

You can hear Jon Monday through Friday on the Bryan Hanks Show: