“I’m in a funk,” John laments as he slumps into the chair at our usual table.

“Why such a sour puss?” consoles our waitress Beverly as she approaches carrying two coffee carafes.

“Yes, I’m concerned, too,” I feign interest.

“No one ever responds to my Facebook posts,” John grumbles.

“Not even your Facebook Friends,” I poke.

“What friends?” John queries.

“I think I may see the problem,” interjects Beverly.  “But first let’s give you an attitude adjustment with today’s coffee specials Santo Domingo Bani and Barahona.

“Uh…can you give us an example of what you’re posting,” I prod.

“It’s stupid,” blurts John.

“No, I really want to know,” I insist.

“That’s my Facebook post…it’s stupid!”

“John, I think we may need a little more context,” Beverly sits at our table. “What exactly is stupid?”

“Well, the whole world,” John explains.

“That certainly narrows it for me,” I sip and smile. “I’m surprised you’re not inundated with reactions.”

Beverly gives me the evil eye. “Moving on. What specifically were you commenting on when you last posted?”

“The tax bill that Congress is going to pass.  It’s stupid.”

“Ok, and why is it stupid, John?” Beverly encourages.

“I don’t like it,” John elaborates.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I smirk.

“Let’s try this another way,” Beverly refills our cups and breathes deeply and patiently. “What I understand is that the tax bill would shave about $25 billion from Medicare. How, do you feel about that?”

“Hm…that doesn’t sound healthy,” I insert.

“I was asking John,” Beverly snaps and removes my cup from the table.

“It’s a bad idea…”

“And…” Beverly gestures to John to continue.

“It means less money for the elderly…” John sits upright.

“Go on…”

“In my opinion…,” I begin.

“You’re on a roll, John,” Beverly places her hand over my mouth.

“Well, I think you keep health care for old folks and find somewhere else to cut spending,” John briskly swallows.

“How about reducing the defense budget?” I attack after peeling Beverly’s hand away.

“We need a strong defense against terrorism and the threat from Korea,” John counters.

“And farm subsidies?” suggests Beverly.

“The cheese subsidy makes no sense. Washington is just spending millions of dollars to keep dairy farmers in business,” John enthuses.

“Well, those cheese heads in Wisconsin need all the help they can get now that Green Bay’s Aaron Rogers is gone for the season,”I toss out for consideration.

“University students would be hit, too,” Beverly notes.

“I’d be out of a job if I were still teaching,” I lecture.

“Another good reason,” John whispers.

“What?” I ask as I turn up the volume on my hearing aids.

“If it keeps anti-speech, safe-spaces, trigger-warning spoiled college kids  off campus, I’m all for it,” John snatches the coffee pot and quickly refills his cup.

“There, John,” Beverly gives a thumbs up. “That’s what you post.”

“Wait, are you going to post about Medicare or military expenditures or farm subsidies or college money,” I ask anxiously.

John turns on his cellphone and says, “ All of them. I’m typing now.”

“Good,” I smile expectantly. “And you’re going to say…?”

“It’s stupid!” John hits enter.

Beverly laughs as I shake my head dejectedly.