Actually, that might just be about the only thing that’s not on the menu at KC’s Breakfast Club. Q. and I had to send the waitress away twice while we attempted to absorb the plethora of items causing a quiver in our breakfast-bones and come to a final decision. We were enjoyably distracted, eavesdropping on a nearby table full of catty hairdressers. Apparently Satan’s House of Beauty is somewhere in Post Falls, because that’s how totally vicious they were, ranting about an absent co-worker for whom they clearly had no love. “She looks like a dog,” drawled one woman. Another girl cackled, “Yeah, her face matches her stinky poodle perm. She’s just low-class 80’s trash.” Q and I had to chuckle at that last quip, considering that these girls themselves were not exactly Paris runway material themselves; in fact they looked quite like they could have appeared as extras in some other random totally tubular Ringwald flick from way back. Their conversation faded into the general chaos of the room as our waitress re-filled our coffee mugs and asked again “Did you have a chance to decide?” Um, just one more minute please!/OrangeTV, Get Out! North Idaho. More here.
Question: Above, OTV tells of overhearing a group of beauticians hammer a co-worker. What kind of workers -- office or otherwise -- are the biggest gossips?