Teeth

I notice teeth. Whether people have them, need them, should get them fixed or need a toothbrush. I notice teeth.

Tuesday at the bar while I was working a new set of teeth walked in. And I mean a new set of teeth, fresh from the carving station and they were attached to one of my regulars. Now, he hasn’t been in on my shift for a few weeks but I know he did NOT have that set of choppers last time I saw him. They were white and shiny, brand spanking new, I don’t even think they’d seen a glass of Efferdent yet.

I’m never sure what to say in this situation. Do you act like you don’t notice them? Do you say “nice teeth”? “I like the teeth.” Where’d you get them”? Or, do you say nothing and just stare? Well, I chose none of the above. I said “Hi, good to see you, you’re looking good.” Honestly, this guy hasn’t looked good since he was a junior in high school in 1977 and even then it may have been iffy. But I was at a loss for the right words so I improvised, very poorly. Plus, I could not stop looking at him.

My compliment and my staring apparently appealed to him as he was grinning like the chubby kid at an all day buffet. You would think I would have stopped staring at that point, nope, not one bit. There is something definitely wrong with me. I should probably mention at this point it was just his top teeth that were new, his bottom ones were still MIA. I did not care, I couldn’t get over how different he looked, and by different I mean nice looking…..in a bad boy, used leather, rode hard, lots older than me sort of way.

Yeah, I know, I’m crazy, he still didn’t have his bottom teeth!!! The more I stared and saw his laugh lines and his smile lines around his mouth that was no longer sucked into his head, the more I was really attracted to this guy. I need to mention again that he still didn’t have any bottom teeth!! I even caught myself flirting with him. Now, I really should reiterate that I flirt with most everyone when I bartend, it’s part of the gig but I think I was really going out of my way on this one. I kept reigning myself in to just talk about what he’s been up to since I’ve seen him last because it had been so long. At one point I even had to go and sit across the bar just so I would stop rambling.

He stayed for three drinks and he never stays for three drinks!! I forced myself to stay away from him so I would stop staring, it was obvious he had noticed me noticing him. I’m sure he just thought it was amusing as there’s no way he was attracted to me. Honestly, I’m not really attracted to him either, it was just one of those days and one of those things that caught me off guard and messed with my senses. What a fiasco. He finally left, grinning from ear to ear all the way to the door. Things were so bad I even checked the rest of him out on his way out.

I shared this story with one of the other bartenders and she said “oh, he used to be very good looking”. Great, just great. I hope next week he doesn’t come in with new bottom teeth, if that happens I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

Speedos

There is a time and a place for men’s speedos. The time is during vacations and the place is a beach in the tropics. Now, on your back deck sun tanning could be a possible place for one as well but it needs to be discreet, no need to be roaming around the yard flaunting your banana hammock.

Friday a coworker and I spotted a speedo mowing his lawn. It was crazy, right there staring at us as we drove by. The coworker grabbed his phone and not so discreetly took a picture of him. The man was old, and I mean old. White hair, white beard and sagging skin that has seen so much sun it looked like a piece of worn shoe leather. The speedo was green and tight. Nothing left to the imagination. It was a ridiculous sight really.

The disturbing part of this is he lives across the street from an elementary school. I mean, isn’t that against some law? I hope he’s not doing that while school is in session, although there were kids on the playground the day we spotted him. I could only imagine mothers telling there children to look away as they stared at him. I know some neighbors of his and she said she was thinking about calling the police, I didn’t think that was such a great idea as I’m pretty sure the police wouldn’t do anything about. Can you imagine that 911 call?

Immediately after we spotted him I called a friend of mine and said “um, your boyfriend is out mowing his lawn in a speedo, I think you should tell him to stop doing that, he’s scaring the children on the playground”. She replied with “We broke up last week, are you across from my son’s school? I know exactly who you’re talking about! Is he wearing the powder blue one today?” I said “yes, that’s where I’m at and no, he has a green one on today. ” She started laughing and said, “Oh he must have bought a three pack, I’ve seen him in powder blue and red”. Seems others have noticed him as well.

The New Cell Phone II

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it. I could not keep the phone that was a step above two dixie cups and a string and a step below a rotary phone.

I was lucky enough that a friend who read my last story had a phone that he didn’t need anymore. I got a text from him last week that said “I just read Following Funny and I have an iPhone3 you can have. Cut your losses.” You would have thought I hit the lottery. I was happier than a government employee on flag day.

I wasn’t overly thrilled because it was an iPhone and I’ve been operating off of Android for so long but I didn’t care at this point. Frustration had made its way in and it wasn’t leaving. I had realized by then that the phone had fewer features than I first thought and it didn’t always seem to ring when someone called. I started getting voicemails and there was no missed call or anything.

Today my saint dropped off my new phone. I of course had to text several questions to my iPhone guru friends to ask some really dumb questions (I couldn’t find where the SIM card went) so it took me about three hours to get it set up and I’m even still working on a couple things at this point. Remember how the other phone brought in three of each contact? Well, with this phone I’m missing a bunch of them. That certainly could have been me messing around with the phone from hell the last few days. Now when people text I’m going to have to ask “who is this”. How embarrassing.

Miraculously I kept my receipt from my purchase last week so I was on a mission to return it today. Once again I was reminded why I do not go to Wal-Mart. When I made my purchase last week I asked the cashier if I could return the phone if it didn’t work and she clearly said “yes, just go to customer service and they’ll take care of it for you”. Today I parked in the customer service line with the crappy phone and a smile on my face…..for about five minutes.

It became obvious fairly quickly that returning this phone was going to be an adventure. There were four Walmartians behind the counter. One was on the phone, one was weighing and counting money (on the front counter while people were standing there no less), one was sorting returned items and one was helping a customer. Yes, one. There was a line of six people waiting to be helped. I can only imagine that they were returning some piece of crap as well. It seemed to be more important for them to switch a money drawer and for one to leave for break than actually help anyone.

I not so patiently waited for my turn to proudly present my receipt and purchase. I was finally greeted by the sole working Walmartian and told him I was returning the phone. He was only too happy to tell me he couldn’t help me and that I needed to go to the cell phone center. I said “seriously” and he said “yup, that’s where all phones are returned even if you bought it back in electronics”. Oh good.

I walked over to the cell phone center and lo and behold, two people working, nine people in the center. I was hoping I wouldn’t have a meltdown before I got helped. One worker was helping a woman who was asking about monthly plans. This woman was saying the craziest things to the worker, I just couldn’t believe the employee was so patient with her. She was telling her about how she got her last four or five cellphones which was completely irrelevant to what was happening today. All this while people were waiting! This wasn’t social hour at the local tavern.

The top of my head was about to explode when the woman finally stopped talking and I could get helped. I was a bit crabby until I saw the woman’s face who was helping me. She was clearly more frustrated than I was so I put on a pleasant face for her and did what I could to make my visit quick.

I’m happy with my new phone and I’m sure it will take me a few weeks to figure it out and get all my contacts back. By then it will probably break and I will have to get a new one yet again.

The New Cell Phone

The cell phone I’ve had for well over a year has been limping along for a couple of months and I’ve been living with it. Why? Because I haven’t wanted to bother finding a new one, that’s why. Getting a new phone stinks, I struggle with it for months before really knowing how to use it. Hell, I think I had just figured out the one that was limping along.

Well, the other night the limp turned into a full-body crappie flop. Ok, yes, it had help. I dropped it on the floor and it completely gave up on me. I picked it up, put the battery back in and hoped for the best. The best did not happen. The worst happened. The screen looked like an old television that was losing its picture tube. A bunch of multi-colored lines with no sign of the actual picture. I played it cool because it happened in front of someone and no sense getting worked up when I had to finish out my shift and it was only 30 minutes in.

As the night wore on panic set in. I no longer had a working phone. I’m going to have to get a hold of people to see if anyone has one I can borrow until I get a new one. Really? How was I going to do that? Smoke signals? Drive to their houses or places of work? I certainly couldn’t call them from the work phone because I don’t know anyone’s number by heart!! Damn technology.

I got home about 1:30 AM and was in full panic mode. I’m on a month to month plan so walking into the cell phone store and asking for a new phone for eight bucks and a two-year contract isn’t a possibility. I actually have to buy my phones new or used. Well, I don’t want to take out a mortgage to buy a brand new schwanky state of the art phone so I was thinking that buying one off Craigslist may be my best bet. Okay, that was going to take too long and too much hassle with no phone to call from.

At 1:45 AM it came to me. Wal-Mart. Now, for those of you who are new to my ramblings I would rather have a root canal without Novocaine than go to Wal-Mart but it seemed to be my only choice. I ventured out to buy a new phone. I did what I set out to do and I bought a new phone. I’m not happy with my new phone but I have one.

My old phone was an Android so I thought I would buy another Android. Little did I know that the non-contract phones that Wal-Mart carries are one step above two dixie cups and a string. I’ve never been overly picky about my cell phones, all I really want to do is talk and text, anything more than that is a bonus. With this dollar store Android I bought it’s a crap shoot as to whether I will actually get to talk or text. I certainly will not be able to do both at the same time.

I switched out my SIM card and my SD card and thought that I would be good to go. Not so much the case as I looked in my contacts and there were five numbers there. Ok, I probably have to import them. I figured out how to do that and left it work for about 15 minutes. I tried to read the booklet with the features but there really weren’t many features listed. Great. The import finished so I checked out my contacts and lo and behold there were 600. 600????? What the….?

Upon further investigation it had imported three of everything….and I mean everything. There were numbers imported that I had deleted a year ago. This phone managed to find numbers that weren’t actually there. Goes to show you nothing is ever truly deleted, be careful. I started to have hope for the phone, maybe it was smarter than I thought it was.

The next morning my hopes were dashed when I attempted to text. It has no dictionary, no auto correct, no suggestions (other than the names that are in my contact list so every time I type an A, it suggests that I use Adam), nothing. Even auto correct would be welcome at this point. I sent this text earlier “I have norhung better to do than wirry about whats on tv. This fuckinf phone diesnt even tell you when something is spelled wrong its so cheap. Urgh.” Honestly, my fingers are too fat to not make mistakes, I could really use some help. If I would have picked corrections for my misspellings it would have said “I have nonnie better to do than wenker about whats on tv. This frankie phone dan even tell you when something is spelled wrong its so cheap. Urgh”

I downloaded Dice with Buddies and Kindle and the phone told me it’s running out of memory. I cried and wanted to throw it. I’m not going to buy yet another one so I will struggle through it until I can afford a good one. For those of you who text me, don’t expect anything to be spelled correctly so you’ll have to figure out what I’m trying to say.

The Gas Station

I have to share this. It’s too good not to. I received a phone call from a friend this morning, the only way I can relay this story is to try to type it as it happened.

Me: “Hello”

Her: “The most embarrassing thing happened to me this morning, I’m completely humiliated.”

Me: “This ought to be good” (she doesn’t embarrass easily)

Her: “I don’t need your shit, this isn’t funny”

Me: I immediately start to laugh

Her: “I asked (husband) to fill my truck up with gas when he got home from work last night because I’ve been driving for about 25 miles with it beeping at me. When I woke up this morning he wasn’t home so I called him and asked him if he had a sleepover last night because he never came home. He started laughing at me and said he got home after midnight, slept with me and had to be back at work at 5:00 AM this morning.”

Me: “Nice, you slept through him coming home and leaving again.”

Her: “Well that’s not the embarrassing thing. He didn’t have a chance to get gas for me so he left me his credit card on the counter to use for gas. On the way to bring (son) to school I stopped at the gas station to fill up. The new pumps at the station wouldn’t work so I went in to see the cashier, she informed me that they were having trouble and I should just fill up and she’d run the card when I was done. After filling up I went back inside to pay. The card kept saying declined and I kept telling her to try it again, knowing full well there was room on the card. After several tries she gave up. Well, you know me, I didn’t even bring anything with me, no purse no cash, nothing.”

Me: “Oh no.” I’d been hiding a laugh since the beginning of the story and could no longer hold it in.

Her: “*&^%$@ you Peg, this isn’t funny!” While she’s trying really hard not to laugh.

Me: “Hey listen, you called me, how can I not laugh.”

Her: “Anyway, my hands are tied with no money and a credit card that doesn’t work so I tell the cashier that I’m going to leave my son there and run home and get a check blank. There he stood in the gas station while I drove away to go home.”

Me: “You’re kidding me?!! You left him there while you ran home? Couldn’t you have left your driver’s license?”

Her: This portion should be read as if you’re laughing, crying and irate all at the same time because that’s what it was like. She was yelling and her voice was hoarse. “I didn’t have anything else to leave with her. I ran home to grab the checkbook and it wasn’t there. Then I looked where we keep the check blanks and they weren’t there. I was so mad at him (the hubby) because I thought he hid them from me so I tried to call him and he wasn’t answering. I left him scathing messages and told him to be ready to sign divorce papers when he got home. ”

Me: “Pretty sure he didn’t give you a non-working credit card on purpose.”

Her: “Shut up Peg, stop sticking up for him. Anyway, I started digging around the house for money, found a twenty here and a twenty there. Left the house with $76 which was $2 short of what I needed. Thank goodness I found a couple of dollar bills in the truck as I tore that apart too. I headed back to the gas station, still leaving mad messages for him (hubby).”

Me: “Good Lord.” At this point I was picturing her rummaging through her house looking for check blanks and cash, swearing and yelling. I’m also amazed that someone can actually find $76 in their house, pretty sure I’d come up with about $3.52 if I dug around for money. I was laughing uncontrollably. The harder I laughed the harder she laughed and the madder she got.

Her: “I got back to the gas station to pay for my gas and the cashier said “hey sport, your mom is here to get you out of hock. I could have died. Then she looked at me and said “I had trouble with several cards after yours so had to move to the other cash register, seems it was a problem on our end”, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

Me: I couldn’t even speak at this point I was laughing so hard.

As we were on the phone she arrived home and her husband was just getting home from work. I heard her say “leave me alone, I dare you to step in front of the truck, I’ll run you over”, she was laughing so hard she could hardly get the words out. I had to hang up because I couldn’t handle the laughter.

Her husband called me a few minutes later and we laughed our butts off. He said he didn’t hide the check blanks and opened the drawer to prove it and they had slid to the back of the drawer. He said he listened to his voicemail and couldn’t even understand what was going on. All I could do is tell him he may need to get his son some therapy for him being used for collateral at the gas station. He’s going to get a lot of mileage out of this one, I’ve never heard him laugh so hard.

This is why I love having people in my life who tell on themselves and who also know I enjoy a hilarious story.

I’ve been laughing since I started writing this story so I just called her and it went to voicemail. I said “I’m just wondering if Child Protective Services stopped by after your son told his story at school today”. She beeped in right after I was done leaving it so I was laughing when I answered. All I could say is “I’m so funny sometimes”. She couldn’t believe I was still laughing. I said “I can believe it”.

Nervous Nelly

I’m not a nervous person…..well….maybe I should say I’ve never been a nervous person in the past. It seems that times are changing though. This last week has proven to me that certain situations cause me to be a basket case. And I don’t like it, not one bit.

Give me a microphone and a room full of people and I’m fine, put me in a room with just about anyone for a job interview and I’m fine or put me behind a bar with people three deep waiting for drinks and I’m fine (I’m sweating but fine).

Ask me to write a book and put it for sale on all the major bookseller websites and I’m completely beside myself. I have no idea what has come over me but it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

It’s been just over a week since I approved the book to be distributed and exactly one week since it hit Amazon and iBookstore. I felt the first twitches of something when I hit the ‘approve’ button. I thought that may have just been something I ate but it continually got worse over the next two days. Then Friday afternoon hit and I received a text message from a friend that said she found it on the iBookstore. I crumbled. I happened to be helping out at the bar and I really thought I was going to faint.

There I was, helping customers and not knowing whether I needed to pull up the sink and throw up or run to the bathroom. It’s been a roller coaster ever since. There have been headaches, chest pains, stomach issues and plain old loss of thought process. I would imagine some of this I could blame on age but I know it’s nerves and anxiety. A strange new world for me.

I was nervous once when I had to be on camera for a webinar and my stomach was doing flips and somersaults. I figured it was because I couldn’t see my audience but they could see me, plus the camera adds ten to fifteen pounds and who needs an extra ten pounds? NOT ME!

I still haven’t quite figured out why this would make me so nervous but for now I’m going with the excuse that it’s the fear of failure……I’m pretty sure that’s not it though. Oh, I may fail alright but that comes with so many things we do in life. Perhaps I should write to Dr. Phil to see if he can fix me…………better not do that, who knows what that guy will find going on with me, I’m pretty content with my own version of crazy.

I’m optimistic this nerves thing will take care of itself soon because I can’t take it. I’m also pretty sure those close to me aren’t going to be able to take it much longer either. My close friends have to be tired of text messages and phone calls about this. I can almost see them rolling their eyes and thinking “she has to get over this already”. Idaho told me last week he thought it was cute that I was nervous. I bet he doesn’t think that any longer.

I’m taking the weekend to step away and spend some time with family and friends. Maybe I’ll get a grip.

Driving Issues

Why are simple traffic rules so tough for some people? Every day it seems I run into an issue with other drivers on the road. It’s a scary thought to be out and about with other drivers. Now, I’m not saying I’m the best driver but I do know the simple rules of the road. Just in the last few days I’ve witnessed some very frustrating things.

Four-way stops: At least once a day, I drive up to a four-way stop and another car is completely confused about what exactly should be happening. Sometimes I stop at the same time as someone on my right. They have no clue that they have the right-a-way. It’s such an awkward moment, staring at them and then attempting to wave them through. They do nothing for several seconds so I decide to go and then they finally decide to go as well. We then have the herky-jerky stop and go dumbassery happening. Finally I stop and wave them on with an angry hand gesture, no, not the one finger gesture, the ‘I’m going to slap you if I ever see you again’ wave while I’m shaking my head.

There are also the people who never went to geometry class because the shape of a stop sign looks like the shape of a yield sign to them. These people either give a poor attempt at a stop or they slow a bit and then speed up through the intersection no matter how many people stopped before them. I hate to be stereotypical here but most of the non-stoppers are men, leave it to them to think they own the road.

I laughed hysterically yesterday when there were four of us sitting at the intersection at the same time. I was the last one to stop but the other three cars seemed to be in a deadlock, all staring at each other in a panic. I couldn’t bother to wait, I went while they were all still figuring out who was on the right. The last time I looked in my mirror they were still sitting there.

Using mirrors: Twice in the last week I’ve had to use my horn excessively because someone was backing up and not using their mirrors. They were headed right for me. It took quite some time for them to hear the horn but they both missed me by mere inches. I think I agree with something I read a few weeks ago which was “I’m going to get a car horn that sounds like gunshots”. I bet people would pay attention to my horn much sooner.

Merging traffic: No one pays attention to the fact they have a yield sign when they’re merging. I can’t tell you how many times I end up waiting for people who actually have the merge sign. The worst part, they have no clue, and I mean no clue, that they were in the wrong, in fact, sometimes I even get the fist shake, the yell or the finger from people because they have no idea what is actually supposed to happen.

All I’m asking for here is for people to pay attention…..and perhaps take a refresher course on what should be happening at a four-way stop, read close, it can be confusing apparently.

This Is My Life

I truly have to wonder if the stuff that happens to me happens to everyone. I think it does but most people probably find it more frustrating than funny. I had one of those weeks this past week and of course I feel the need to share.

I had to break up a fight at the bar and I haven’t had to do that in a long time. One of our regulars Jan was in and she was in rare form (well, not really rare for her). She’s a bit rough around the edges but has a heart of gold. I have rules for her when I’m there. She has to pull up her pants, no wearing them below her butt cheeks, she can’t mooch off of other customers, she can’t ask me for money and she can’t try to sell me anything. No, I am not lying, those are her rules. She is VERY aware of them.

Anyway, Jan was with a girl and a guy. Pretty soon her and the girl were off of their stools pushing and slapping each other. Like a shot (I move pretty fast when it comes to this stuff) I went around the bar and got between them. Then I panicked. I not only got between them, I had my back to the regular. In a matter of a couple of seconds some very bad scenarios went through my head, including getting a knife in the back. I stepped away in one piece thankfully. As I was yelling at her that she had to leave I added “now you have another rule, no fighting and I shouldn’t have to tell you that. If it happens again, you’re out for good”! I act pretty tough in times like that.

As I walked back behind the bar Matt, (another regular) said “holy crap, how did I miss that, I’ve never seen you move so fast”. I said “the last thing I need is to have to call the cops on my shift, I take care of that on my own”. He just laughed and went back to the game on his phone. He’s normally the one that takes care of any riff raff while he’s there.

A few minutes after breaking up the fight a woman walked in wearing a pair of sunglasses. Across the lenses it said SW AG. Matt and I looked at each other and at the same time said “this ought to be good”. It didn’t take her long to start dirty dancing and shooting pool. She was using the pool stick as a stripper pole since we don’t actually have a stripper pole there. She got a little worked up at one point so took her arms out of her hoodie and just wore it around her neck. She was wearing a wife beater and was sportin’ some pretty large butt crack. She didn’t care, she had swag and was going to prove to everyone she had earned those sunglasses. She attempted to pick up a couple customers to take home but struck out. She left and came back twice providing us with about two hours of entertainment but left empty handed each time. Perhaps she found someone in a different bar.

Jan came in a couple days later apologizing for her behavior and tried to tell me she wasn’t fighting. I argued with her for a minute and then she finally said “if we were fighting why did I wake up with her in my bed the next morning?” I could only drop my head and go about my day, I had no argument for that and I certainly didn’t ask for any sort of confirmation.

Saturday night I had a group of three come in who were more than interesting. The woman had won money somehow, somewhere and was throwing it around like it grew on trees. She used her bra for a wallet and was going back to her stash like a fat kid at a buffet. She bought her and her friends drinks, bought the other people in the bar drinks and put 20 bucks in the jukebox. With that $20 she played two songs, the same two songs, over and over again. She offered me 10 bucks to crank the jukebox. I’m not proud, I did it and because she was buying drinks for everyone they all stood up and sang with her at the top of their lungs.

It wasn’t long before her and her man started dancing. This was when I noticed that she had on a very sheer, very revealing shirt which didn’t cover much and continually fell off her shoulder to expose a lot of skin and a good portion of her bra. I also noticed she wore a swimsuit bikini bottom under her jeans. The strings and bows were hanging out of her pants and her crack was hanging out of both the bikini and the jeans.

It was difficult for me to watch this show with a straight face so I found something to do that would leave me with my back to them. Soon after I started ignoring them I heard a thump and got that feeling in my stomach that something was going on I did not want to see. I turned around and sure enough she was sitting on the bar with him between her legs. I have never seen a 400 lb man dry hump anyone but he was going to town.

I thought the friction he was causing may start a fire and I was a bit scared to tell him to stop but I had no choice. I yelled “hey, no no no no no no no, no, NO You cannot do that on my bar.” They both looked at me with that “what?” look on their face and he lifted her off the bar. Thank goodness they stopped without issue but not before I was searching desperately for eye wash, or acid, or tequila, anything. That’s something that I can never unsee.

The week ended at McDonald’s. I was in desperate need of a small chocolate shake (I never used to crave chocolate but apparently that happens when they remove some of your girl parts, go figure). I ordered my shake sans cherry, received my total and started to drive toward the window. I stopped behind a red Dodge that was probably two car lengths from window number one. His driver’s door was open with his rear sticking out and him digging under the dash. My window was still open so when he straightened up he said to me “it’ll just be a second, it’s the battery, no big deal”. He then proceeded to open the hood and dig around for a few seconds, close the hood and get in. He was talking the whole time, telling me it wouldn’t be long. His truck started and on he went to the first window.

After he paid, he stepped on the gas and the truck moved about three feet and then died again. This time he seemed to be prepared and was veering to the right to get out of the way. He stopped in front of the second window but he was in the actual driving lane. I paid quickly and was laughing as I moved toward the second window. As I got to the second window the guy’s passenger got out of the truck and said “screw this, I’m going in to get the food”. His passenger left him there, stalled. The driver opened his door and started pushing the truck by himself.

I went to the window, helped the very confused McDonald’s crew figure out which food went where because they kept trying to give me two McChickens (which actually belonged to the people behind me) and went on my very very merry way. I giggled for about 30 minutes and had to call a friend to tell her about it. I thought long and hard about what my friends would do and decided yes, they probably would leave me stalled to go get the food.

I can’t wait to see what this week brings.

Best Friends

Isn’t it funny how the meaning of ‘best friend’ changes over time? Well, at least it has and still does for me. I’ve been very lucky that I’ve consistently had the same true ‘best friend’ for twenty plus years. I’ve also been lucky to have several who fit under the category of ‘one of my best friends’. My sister has become a ‘best friend’ as over the years our age difference no longer matters. Idaho added yet another definition of ‘best friend’ with endless hours of phone conversations.

For me, friends differ depending on the situation so I thought I would try to come up with scenarios that may help you put your friendships into perspective . This is not always a one size fits all thing, I for one am quite diversified.

I agree with the saying that a good friend will help you bury the body. There’s also the friend who will bring the bleach and the shovel for the best possible clean-up.
There are particular friends who will bail you out and pick you up from jail, no matter what you did. Others will be with you in jail….see my first point.
Some will let you vent about your other friends without judging you. They will also add ‘that bitch’ and not truly mean it when appropriate.
A few will go with you to get a tattoo and not judge you, your choices or any of your chubbiness that’s showing.
One friend will stop for dollar McDoubles even though neither of you need it. Then laugh about it when they taste like cardboard. Duh, they did last time too!
Some will still love you after you get the giggles at completely inappropriate times.
Most will laugh hysterically when you take a fall but help you up after they’re done laughing and they’ve gone to the bathroom.
One friend will say nothing when you open the champagne bottle in the car and crack the windshield.
Very few will tell you that outfit looks bad. The ones that do should be your shopping partners for life.
Some will deal with you when you’re bawling uncontrollably for no apparent reason. Even when you don’t know why you’re crying.
One friend sends you to your room when you laugh at her naughty child. It’s only fair.
Some get in the car with you for the day and say “drive that way” when you just need to get out of town for a few hours to hide from life.
A few will laugh with you while watching others make an ass out of themselves. Then turn to you and say, “Holy crap, that was us ten years ago”.
Very few will crawl into bed with you and talk until you fall asleep just because they know you need them near you.
There’s probably only one who will say “I draw the line at wiping your butt; however, I will bring a hose and a loofa sponge on a stick and we’ll figure it out”.
Keep those that know you’re really kidding when you ask if they can carry the chainsaw while you grab the garbage bags and the plastic gloves but they play along.
Some will take your ridiculous phone call in the middle of the night no matter what. Even if you’re hysterical about a break-in and they can’t understand you.
Very few will clean your house while you’re down and out and not judge because of the mess.
All of your best friends should take the good with the bad, be supportive, keep your secrets, listen to your opinion and take it into consideration (even if they don’t want to) and love you unconditionally.

I think you have friends for all reasons and seasons. Some friends are appropriate for more situations than others, there are only one or two that actually fit into most. I’ve realized that’s okay, not everyone knows how to be the same kind of friend.

Most important, they ALL should be laughers, even when it’s a not-so-great situation. May as well make the best of it.

Girl’s Weekend

Three of us have been talking about getting in a car, finding a town where no one knows us, spending the night and whoopin’ it up. We’ve been talking about it for a month or more but we keep getting bad weather. Perhaps we’ll be able to go in July at this rate.

Anyway, one of the girls has a really great guy friend and he happened to hear us talking and asked “Why can’t I go on your girl’s weekend”? I should tell you that he is one of those guys you could look at all day. Good looking, great teeth, smiles a lot and is very witty. We call him our eye candy and I am his stalker. I’m okay with that. Back to his question…..it has given us weeks of entertainment. Not only have we been teetering back and forth on whether we should actually put him in the trunk and take him with us but also what would happen if we did.

This whole concept came to a climax on Sunday. The four of us happened to be sitting around chatting and the girl’s weekend came up. We again started in on what would happen if we took the lone gunman with us. Two of us went off on a massive tangent. As you read the conversation below imagine it happening with progressing laughter, at a decibel like non other and us crying most of the way.

Me: “Can you imagine what shape he would be in when we brought him back? You know, dirt smeared everywhere, draggin’ a leg.”

Her: “Oh my, you’re right. A cast on his leg, his pants shredded to the knee.”

Me: “An eye patch, oh yeah, he would be wearing an eye patch!”

Her: “One arm in a sling!”

Me: “Oh, oh, one of those collar things, you know, the things they put on dogs so they don’t lick their wounds!”

Her: “A cone, oh shit a cone, how funny would that be!!”

Me: “Leg in a cast, arm in a sling, an eye patch and a cone!!!”

Her: “Oh, oh, oh, and his shirt buttoned wrong!!!!”

Me: Uncontrollable laughter.

Her: Tears, uncontrollable laughter.

Me: Incoherent English.

Her: Through tears, “He should have something wrong with that pretty face, oh, a rug burn on his nose”

Me: “How did he get the rug burn?”

Her: “Who cares!! He has it and there’s more where that came from!”

Me: Doubled over, can’t breathe, tears streaming down my face.

Imagine the original conversation taking probably seven minutes or so and containing massive fits of laughter. The other two were attempting to set up something on a phone so weren’t paying attention to us completely. When they were done being all techie we reenacted our conversation which took another 15 minutes or more. Our laughter had only intensified during the remake.

I know girl’s weekend will happen. I have no idea whether the lone gunman will come with us. If he does, I cannot guarantee he will return in one piece, or return in the car or the trunk or if he will even be lucid when we drop him off at home. I make no promises other than sore stomach muscles from laughing and that we’ll all make it home, one way or another.

I’m fairly positive I will not be able to write a story about it under my own name.