No Wine, No Beer, No Bull

A couple of decades ago Julia and I were waiting in a hospital's lab's waiting room in South Carolina. For some reason people stood against the wall and sat in the aisles, there were so many.

A woman in a seat around the corner said, "No potatoes, no grits. No steak on the table. No cornbread and milk. No wine, no beer, no bull. No potatoes, no grits. No steak on the table. No cornbread and milk, no wine, no beer, no bull. No potatoes, no grits. No steak on the table. No cornbread and milk, no wine, no beer, no bull . . . "

An old woman with a feeble voice, now and then commented, "Please, be quiet. Would you please be quiet?" But the loop tape kept running. " . . no steak on the table. No cornbread and milk. No wine, no beer, no bull."

"Please be quiet. Would you please be quiet."

By the way, "Bull," in this context is Schlitz Malt Liquor.

Now and then Julia or I will say, "Did you put the bread on the table?" and the other will begin the loop, "No steak on the table. No cornbread and milk. No wine, no beer, no bull."

I love private language.