Just One

Some Women, Some Cameras, Just One (that's our story, and we're sticking to it) beverage. Shake. Serve with twist of venting, crying, bitching, and laughing-laughing-laughing. Men Welcome. Buy us all the drinks you want, but we still won't sleep with you. Probably.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Nuts to you!

We had a Girl's Night last night. My camera was dead, but I can use pix from another night, to say what I have to say.



One, just ONE of the things I love about the women I choose to hang out with, is that they're NOT a hateful lot.

It's probably my #1 criteria for making friends. I don't care what you do for a living; what you look like, how much you weigh, or what you wear. I don't care your age, or your race, or your marital, educational, or financial status.

But. If you happen to be a woman that wants to sit around making fun of other people, or looking down your nose at them, or gossiping about them...well...hon...you have to go play in somebody else's sandbox.

At our Girl's Nights, we have a nice time.



Other Girls come over and visit:



And yes, we might do this to you:



Or someone might do THIS to you:



Or we might ask you to do this:



And for the most part, we feel like this:



And this:



But we will never.

Ever.

Look at you like this:



Which is pretty close to the look I got from the woman that sat behind us last night.

Is What Happened Is:

See, you're supposed to throw your peanut shells on the floor at this particular establishment. And we'd accumulated several on the table, and I was trying to surreptitiously sweep them off of the table in little bunches. I was too embarrassed to dump them all at once. I'd wait for people to walk by, then flick a few to the floor.

Only this one time...A woman was walking by, and as she stepped by the table, I give another bunch of shells a fierce swipe.

I hadn't anticipated that she'd stop to let someone by, and I nearly hit her.

Nearly. I didn't hit her, but it was close.

She took one step back, gave me a look like that woman up there from Are You Being Served, and said, icily, "very cute."

I could tell, though, she didn't really mean I was very cute. She didn't mean it at all. What she meant was "die, you mudsucking bitch."

Well.

That's not very nice, is it?

So she can't play with us.

Her loss.

So there.

7 Comments:

At 9:38 AM, Blogger Ilaiy said...

The pics are so much fun ... Wish I was here

Nice story ..

./thanks
ilaiy

 
At 10:24 AM, Blogger Laurie said...

She was jealous because you were having fun...and peanuts. Nuts to her!

By the way, I love "Are You Being Served?" Hilarious.

 
At 1:17 PM, Blogger Momo said...

We won't let anybody hold us down!!

Ilaiy, that was the night we talked and I said: "I looooooooooooooove you, Ilaiy! Ilaiy! Ilaiy, I miiiiiiiiiiiiis you!"

We wish you were here too! [pet, pet]

 
At 5:58 PM, Blogger Wendy said...

I don't like mean people. What I often wonder is this: Why would someone - a stranger or not - assume ill intent? Why wouldn't someone assume the best intent until proven wrong? I just don't understand. Those people must be mighty unhappy...

 
At 9:58 PM, Anonymous Chez Bez said...

You blogged about her. That'll teach her. ;)

 
At 7:27 AM, Blogger chuckieeverdapper said...

Yes, never underestimate the power of the internet to belittle the wrongdoers of the world. A blanket party behind the bar would probably right the karmic swing also. But then again, that's my answer for everything.

 
At 6:40 AM, Blogger Mary Poppins said...

'mudsucking bitch!!"

::rolls eyes::

She totally wants to hang out wit' ya!

 

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