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.
