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… 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.

Naked Encounter

Holy saggy parts Batman!

It happened and I am mortified.  I finally have a roommate for the first time in almost four years.  She’s been here for about three months.  Things are working out spectacular….well, they were……..until very early Saturday morning.

Let me explain.  We both had plans for a marvelous Friday evening, separate plans I might add.  She had bowling and I was meeting a friend after work for some dinner and girl talk.  Life was good.  We both ended up being out pretty late, she made it home before I did so by the time I arrived, she was more than ready for bed.

We chatted for a couple of minutes, she dozed off several times, and then she finally went to bed.  I went to the bathroom, dilly dallied for a bit and decided I wasn’t quite ready for bed but needed to take my contacts out and find some pajamas.

Well, I took out my contacts upstairs and realized my pajamas were in the living room downstairs because I had washed clothes the night before.  I was already in my birthday suit and figured things were good, she was in bed and my pajamas weren’t far from the stairs.  No worries, easy peezy, I’ve done this a hundred times.

About the time I got to the bottom of the stairs and was reaching for my pajamas my roommate came out of her room and started walking my way and talking.  I said “holy shit” and screamed when she spotted me reaching to grab my pajamas.  She scared the daylights out of me.

For those of you who know me, to cover up anything I have that’s naked is almost impossible.  I  would have needed a tarp on me for her not to see anything.  Parts of me were peeking around the corner and other parts were hidden, the wrong parts were peeking.  I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time.  My roommate said “oh shit” and turned around to go back to her room.  I was yelling an apology after her but she kept walking with her hands up in the air.

What the hell do I do now?  I decided to flash my 40something girl parts to my roommate and  I have no idea how I will even face her.  I haven’t seen her much since the incident and I have completely ignored it thus far.  I think I will go with that and hopefully she won’t bring it up.  I imagine what she saw will be burned in her memory and she’s probably scarred for life, poor woman.

I learned m lesson… more walking around the house naked……ever.

Celine Saw Her Butt

This is another one of those stories that I hesitate to write because I’m not sure I can do it justice but I was reminded of it again recently so I will give it a whirl.

Three of us were in Las Vegas for work.  We were only there for a few busy days so we wanted to make the most of our down time.  We were staying at the Stratosphere and a bit off the beaten path but we figured walking would do us good.  We made plans to meet for dinner one night and then we were going to walk the strip to see what trouble we could find.

Dinner went well and we started our trek down the strip when Maggie had a blow-out in one of her more than worn walking shoes.  It was pointless to attempt to continue our walk because she was dragging a leg and the other two of us were laughing.  We decided to take a cab to Caesars Palace to find a shoe store.

Bingo!  A sporting goods store for a new pair of shoes was easily located.  Jason and I weren’t there to shop so we supported our friend in her quest for a new set of tires.  A lovely young man was helping her with her size eight and a half’s, try this, what about these and can I tie those for you?  He really got into his groove when he realized she had a blow-out, nothing like a sure sale.  He was bending down in front of her to tie her shoe when it happened.

She bent down a little to do something, maybe talk to him, maybe help him tie, I’m not sure.  Rrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppppppppp.  The sound was not only deafening in the small store but confusing as well.  Which type of new blow-out was this?  Gas or pants?  From our vantage point, Jason and I could clearly see, and I mean CLEARLY see, that it was a complete denim failure in the cheek area and continuing down the leg.  The young man helping her out was not quite so sure of the origin so he immediately looked up with huge eyes, stood up and proceeded to walk away from her.

After the initial shock of the sound and an awkward moment of silence, the laughter began. Not only did the laughter begin but the tears soon followed.  All three of us had tears.  Two of us from laughter, one of us from being embarrassed.  When she started to cry that did not help our situation out AT ALL.  As I was attempting to control myself, Jason crouched and hid in a circular rack of t-shirts to hide.  The rack only hid him, not his uncontrollable laugher.

I did my best to help her get the new tires on so we could get the hell out of the store, I feel as though I failed completely.  I was attempting to hold in my laughter which never works without shoulders shaking, well, my whole body was pretty much convulsing.  I could still hear Jason in the t-shirt rack sniffling and laughing and Maggie’s face was still bright red with tears in her eyes.  Now, I’m not so heartless that I can’t be respectful of someone else’s discomfort but this was the exception, I could not see her point of being upset, other than one of her cheeks was more than peeking out of the back of her pants.  At least she had underwear on.  In turn, I couldn’t control myself and Jason was doing nothing to help me out.

We paid the lovely young man who still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened (I’m sure he realized once we walked out the door and he saw her pants, or lack thereof), gathered Jason out of the rack of t-shirts and headed out the door.  What do we do now?  I offered to change shirts with her, mine may have been a little longer.  I should probably state here that longer really wasn’t going to help much, the rip was well beyond ‘longer’.

Jason and I wanted to check out the casino a bit and Maggie wasn’t quite up to it.  We tried to convince her it wasn’t that bad through more laughter and more tears but she didn’t really believe us, I can’t imagine why.  She was going back to our rooms in a cab to change her pants and she really wanted us to go with her.  That wasn’t happening so she was now mad on top of everything else.  We were still laughing more than we should have been.

As we got to the front door of Caesars there was some commotion going on so it was a bit tough to get through the sea of people, once outside we saw why it was like that.  Celine Dion was just arriving.  This did not make Maggie happy because of the severe rip in her pants.  We watched as Celine and her husband drove up, got out of the car and made their way into the casino slowly.  About that time, a cab showed up and the last words we heard Maggie speak before she got in was “great, now Celine Dion saw my ass!!  Our laughter never really stopped that night.

To this day, Jason and I laugh about this incident, if one of us is having a bad day the mere mention of it puts us in a better mood.  Maggie never did meet back up with us that night nor did she answer our phone calls.  Just the other night Jason informed me he thinks that was the hardest he’s ever laughed in public and I agreed.  I told him he was a coward for hiding in the t-shirt rack but we laughed about it for another ten minutes or so.  He completely agrees he was a coward.  The incident has way more longevity than her pants did.

The Book

Wow.  I’m fairly certain I have never in my life had a month go by so fast.  I returned from a quick trip to Reno about a month ago hell-bent on finishing my book within this millennium.  Actually, I had a goal of March 31st.  I sort of hit my goal.  I know that sounds like I’m cheating a bit but I really did sort of hit it.

I was actually done writing it by March 31st.  I wish that’s all it took is just the writing of it.  Unfortunately I’m not one of those people who have editors, designers and publishers at my beck and call.  What I do have, thank goodness, is awesome friends and family.  One of the things I decided while I was away for a few days was that I had to stop thinking I could do everything myself and ask for help.  I know, I know, elementary, but for those of us who are independent, stubborn and pig-headed this is a huge breakthrough.

I sweet talked my graphic designer into doing a cover and a few graphics for me.  I call him ‘my designer’ but he’s really my ‘oh man, Peg needs something in a pinch and probably for free’ guy.  I do take him to lunch once in a while though, don’t judge.  Today I spent a couple of hours with him to finalize the graphics, we finished, until I got home of course and had one change.  He probably wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have at least one change.  I’m glad I won’t be there in the morning when he opens the email from me.

I recruited my sister and a couple of friends to be my editors.  I was initially thinking I could edit the beast by myself but after the second time reading it I was ready to hang it all up because I stopped finding anything I wrote funny and I was making too many changes.  I got sick of me awfully fast.  These three did an awesome job and gave me great feedback not only on spelling and grammar issues but on the flow of the whole thing.

I’ve now recruited people who will buy the book when it’s finally on the market and do a review for it.  I hope I don’t have to reimburse their $3.99 just to get them to say something positive, that would be embarrassing.  I’ve also recruited some old friends to help with press releases, emails and some advertising pieces.  It sure helps to keep connected with people, you never know when they might come in handy to you or you to them.

It’s 2:00 AM on Tuesday morning, I’m staying with my best friend as she just had neck surgery, I can’t sleep (shocking, I know) and the book is one graphic change away from being ready to be converted into an e-book.  That is unless my sister comes back tomorrow with something she finds in the most recent copy I emailed to her.  I have a new-found respect for authors, editors, publishers, designers and good friends of mine.  I loved every minute of it but holy crap is it a lot of work.  I’m nervous, excited and scared to death.

I’m laying it on the line and I’ll see what happens.  That makes me throw up a bit, I better try to stop thinking about it.

Daily Prompt: Escape!

Describe your ultimate escape plan (and tell us what you’re escaping from).

What a perfect prompt for me today because I have a plan.   Here it is:

I bought a Powerball ticket on Monday and I’m going to win it.  It’s not a mega-huge jackpot but that’s why I’m going to win.  Life would be tragic if I won 348 million and I probably wouldn’t live through the month. I do think I could handle 20 million or so though.  Fewer people are buying tickets because the jackpot is lower which makes my odds good.  Done, in the bag, everyone else tap out, I’m winning!

Oddly enough I do have a backup plan.  Silly, I know but I figured I better put a Plan B in place on the off-chance the sales lady at the gas station gave me the wrong numbers.  I will hunt her down if they’re not the right ones but I get it, everyone makes mistakes, we’re only human, I guess.

My escape plan is this:

My best friend is having surgery on Friday and I’m going to take care of her for a few days, whether she likes it or not.  This is my first escape for a few days, her house, her family.  I’m excited to spend some time there as there will be lots of laughs.  I owe this woman my life so I am willing to do whatever is needed to take care of her.  I may have to draw the line at giving her a bath or wiping her rear end but we can work around that with a garden hose and a loofa sponge on a stick if need be.  Yes, I have thought this through.

While I’m there I will be submitting an ebook to be published.  That has been my focus for weeks and I’m so close I can feel it.  I’m scared to death that only 25 copies will sell but if I don’t stick my neck out how am I going to figure out who’s going to chop it off.

I’ve decided to get a job for the summer only for now.  I’d like to bartend at a seasonal place (resort, golf club, marina) and work as much as possible.  I’m willing to give up one summer so I can make as much money as I can.  I figure a pile of money and pure exhaustion at the end of the summer should propel me to the next phase of my plan.

If by some small miracle, one of the 25 buyers of my book is a publisher or editor, I will hopefully get noticed for a printed book, a second book or perhaps even a writer for a small nursing home newsletter in Florida.

Before winter hits us, I would like to be somewhere warm.  Preferably in the Caribbean.  Now, I realize I may have to purchase a small boat, row there myself, live on the beach and make clay pots (oh, that reminds me, I should take a pottery class) but I want to be there.  The ultimate escape to paradise.

Finally, I don’t think of it as escaping from anything, I think of it as moving toward something.  Ok, maybe escaping from the northland winters, that warrant for my arrest and that weird stalker guy but other than that, I’m not running, I’m really not.  In all seriousness, I feel this is about me, my time, my dream, my plan.

Hopefully everyone has an escape plan.  Even if it’s far-fetched and may never come true I think everyone should have dreams for an escape.

Daily Prompt: The Odd Couple

Does a messy home (or office) make you anxious and cranky, or is cleaning something you just do before company comes over?

Today’s Daily Prompt question is interesting because for me there doesn’t seem to be a clear-cut answer.

When it comes to working out of the house I am anxious and cranky about a messy desk/office.  Everything has its place.  Unfortunately I have worked in places where it’s hard to find a place for everything because of space, location or lack of equipment/supplies.  I am completely ashamed to say that I have actually driven back to my office at night or gone in on a weekend just because I left a mess behind.  I have no idea if that makes me obsessive, a good employee or just plain stupid but I’ve done it.

As far as my house is concerned I would have to say I fall somewhere in the middle.  If I’m going to have people over and I have ample notice, I will be pretty anxious about making sure the house is clean.  I lived by myself for a few years so my obsessiveness about cleanliness in those years would ebb and flow.  For a few days I would be a slob.  Now, when I say slob I mean not doing the dishes, not putting my clothes away or not sweeping the floor.  I don’t mean leaving rotting food lying around or garbage everywhere.  I want to be sure to be specific here.

I also have to admit there have been times when company was coming that I did the “fake clean”.  You know what I’m talking about, I know you’ve done it too, don’t deny it.  Dirty dishes in the oven, clothes shoved in a closet or piles of stuff moved to a closet or drawer.  Yes, this is very deceiving because people think you have a clean house all the time but it’s better than them thinking the alternative in my mind.

Now that I have a roommate I’m a bit more obsessive at home, I may go a couple of days without doing dishes, vacuuming, etc. but I make sure to keep a pretty clean house so she doesn’t think I’m a slob.  I still throw my dirty clothes down the basement steps but I attempt to make them in a basket instead of leaving them on the floor at the bottom. I still may not put my clothes away but at least they’re in my closet in a basket instead of in the living room in a basket.  Shhhh, don’t tell anyone that my closet isn’t clean.

I also have to say that I am very obsessive about my house before I leave for a few days.  I don’t like coming home to a mess and God forbid something happened to me, I don’t want people coming over to find a mess!  They certainly don’t need to come in to find a science experiment in the fridge, a messy bathroom or a pile of dirty laundry.

I’m not going to be one of those people who say “oh, my house is clean all the time” or “no one cleans like I do” because that’s just not true.  I know a few of those people and I’ve discovered those who brag the most about being obsessively clean really aren’t that way.

Thinking about all this just prompted me to make a list for tomorrow.  Vacuum, laundry, kitchen and bathroom floors and clean sheet night.  Ohhh, looking forward to going to bed tomorrow night already!  Yes, it’s true, clean sheet night is really that exciting to me.

Daily Prompt: Trading Places

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a member of the opposite sex for a day? What do you think life would be like?

There is no right or wrong answer to this, it’s all about our own perspective so I’m not going to over think, I’ll list what comes to my mind first.

  • I’d shower to discover all my new and missing body parts.
  • I’d jump up and down after the shower to discover what that would be like without having to wear a sports bra.  It would also tell me what I’d be working with between my legs.
  • I would stand in front of the mirror to see how much body hair I was cursed with and where exactly it was.  Then I’d trim if need be.
  • I would get dressed, pull my pants up above my crack, not worry about makeup, put on a baseball hat and hit the road.
  • I would first drive around town in my car to see if I became a better driver or not.
  • I would go test drive a big huge truck just to see if it made me feel more masculine.
  • I would test drive a motorcycle to find out if it was instinct how to drive it and see how many women looked my way.
  • I would scratch and adjust myself as much as possible just to see if it’s really that necessary.
  • I would open doors for all the ladies I encounter and smile politely.
  • It would be a lie if I didn’t mention sex.  One would HAVE to know what that would be like.
  • I would do a few chores at home like mow the lawn, take out the garbage, clean the toilet, do the dishes, etc. to see if those things are really as bad as some men say.
  • I would figure out what types of women I’m attracted to.  I would attempt to find out why some men are attracted to the bat shit crazy ones and I would leave something behind to let them know to run away.
  • I would go to the power tool section of the store and see if I automatically knew how to use them all and exactly what they were used for.
  • I would buy something that needs to be assembled just so I could assemble it without reading the directions.
  • I would take a trip without a map or GPS just so I could not ask for directions to see how long it would take to figure it out on my own.
  • I would sit in solitude for a bit to see if I really was thinking about “nothing” or if that’s just what I would tell someone.
  • I’d pee outside just because I could.

I could probably think of several more points but I think that’s enough for now.  I certainly wouldn’t want to dip into any emotional, avoiding confrontation or love stuff.

Botched Photo Opps II

Since my last episode of not having a camera handy you would think I would keep it close at all times.  That didn’t happen though.  There are more photo opportunities missed, not only by me but by others as well.

One of my coworkers pinged me and was laughing at a missed photo opportunity.  She wasn’t sure I would have posted it anyway but the fact that two geese in the pond at her apartment building were having relations was enough to put her in a tizzy.  Pretty sure no more explanation on my part is necessary.

Smart Car with flames.  Driving down the road I spotted a black Smart Car.  I think those are funny in the first place but this one in particular was really funny.  It had bright orange and yellow flames on it.  I’m sure that car would never go fast enough to create flames of any sort but if that makes the owner feel like they have a sports car, more power to him.

I was at the post office one day and a rust colored PT Cruiser pulled in.  The driver got out wearing pants and a sweater that matched her car exactly.  She was very camouflaged when she was standing next to it.  Needless to say, I couldn’t even get my phone out fast enough for a picture.

Shooting pool the other team had some problems with their pants.  One middle-aged woman was wearing a pink lace thong that stuck out above the back of her pants.  One other player seemed to be missing underwear all together as she showed crack every single time she bent over, not just a little crack either, it was quite long.

A person who frequents the bar has such bad hair it’s almost impossible to even explain.  This week it looked like a small rodent had made it’s home in the hair that’s left on the back of her head.  I believe she intended to have one of those inverted cuts that’s shorter in back and longer in front…..whoever cut it didn’t know it’s supposed to be a gradual thing, they also didn’t know you should use an actual pair of scissors and not a dull butter knife.   This week she also added a couple of bobby pins in the front and one curl on one side of her face.  Not a clue what she was going for there.  I believe she’s also letting her natural color grow back so about three inches down there’s a very definitive line between the two colors.

While in Reno we were waiting for the check-in desk and noticed a very tall, very large man in front of us.  Not only was he wearing a pair of bottoms that could have either been a long pair of shorts or a short pair of pants but when he turned around his slightly short t-shirt said ‘Big Daddy’.  All would have been fine had his shirt not said that.  We did manage to control ourselves until we were outside and out of earshot.

Also while in Reno we were returning to the hotel after an outing and a lady of the night was on her phone outside a cab.  Her outfit was beyond words and she was clearly agitated while asking the cab driver if he took anything besides cash.  Of course he was only taking cash, I think he knew what she meant by ‘any other form of payment’.  She was telling whoever she was talking to that she wasn’t paid in cash so she didn’t have any.  I’m not sure if her night was that slow, she was lying to her pimp or she was paid in chocolate chip cookies.  Very hard to say.

I will continue to watch for more opportunities and hopefully one of these days I will actually start getting some photos.

Crab Legs

Tonight I went with friends to a seafood buffet.  The big item…..crab legs.  Oh, they were sooooo good!!  I’m still stuffed to the gills and it was hours ago.

There were four of us at the table and as I was watching what was happening and how I must have looked diving into those crab legs I thought what a spectacle we all were.  There was food flying, legs cracking and butter dripping.  It was marvelous as an eater but I bet as an observer it resembled a bunch of lions devouring an antelope. Grunts and groans, ohhs and ahhs and food EVERYWHERE.

It’s so funny to watch the elation on the faces of people when they crack the leg just perfect and get that sliver of meat out.  It’s then held up like a trophy for the whole table to see.  “Ohhhh look at this one!”  Then everyone else says “Nice!”  It’s the only food I can think of that we do this with.  It’s also the only food I can think of that we work our ass off for a piece of meat the size of a toothpick and we’re happy as hell about it.

I feel like someone who doesn’t know how to use silverware when I eat crab legs.  I crack them with my hands, dig the meat out with my fingers and sometimes even eat the big pieces with my hands.  I realized I’m not civilized at all!  I also realized crab legs is not an item you want to have on the first few dates, you have to know someone pretty well to eat like that in front of them.

When I pushed my first plate away, yes I said the first plate, I noticed there was more food on the table then should have been possible.  Then I looked down at my shirt and I had a shelf full of some white sauce from the scallops, a drop of tarter sauce, a chunk of pasta and enough crab meat to fill a claw.  What the??  Did I not get anything in my mouth?  Was I shoveling so fast that I wasn’t even breathing?  How embarrassing.  I tried to be discreet (yeah right) and pick it all off before going back to the trough for a second plate.

As I was filling my second plate I was lecturing myself in my head to slow down while eating.  I was a little bummed I lost so much crab meat the first time, it’s a lot of work to get a little bit of meat, it needs to be savored and rationed.  The second plate was as good as the first and I had to ask for wet wipes.  I’m not sure I’d want to be a waitress on a night like that, the cleanup is insane.

I had a hard time getting out of the booth but was more than satisfied, as were my counterparts.    When we got in the car to go home it was riding a little lower but we all had smiles on our faces.  It will be quite awhile before I go back to that buffet but when I do I’m going to bring a bib or wear something that wipes off easy.