Same old. Same old.

The blue-haired  ladies I kept running into on the the 6th floor of the Omni Richmond seemed very pleasant . They were giddy about each new adventure they were about to undertake, and even the ones who were driving Rascals seemed to be charming old ladies full of, to use an old expression, piss and vinegar. So even when one nearly ran me over in her haste to get to the Arby's in the lobby, I tended to think well of them. That is until I discovered that they were at the hotel for a biennial convention of the Daughters of the Confederacy, suggesting to me that they were racists and Republicans, or is that

redundant?