Sunday, August 19, 2012

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Boy, I needed a good laugh and I got one day before yesterday.

My girlfriend drove me over to the Walmart pharmacy. We saw a commotion and, of course, we rubbernecked like crazy. There were quite a few folks trying to see what was happening. There were a few  police cars blocking off half the parking lot, the store manangers blocked the entrance closest to the happenings... it was crazy. Mostly, I was annoyed as hell that we had to go all out of the way to do what we needed.

A couple of nice looking fellows were stuck same as my girlfriend and I, trying to get back out to the parking lot. One of them said something to my friend and she almost fainted because he had an accent. French, I think. He and his friend seemed nice, kind of shaking their heads and hoping that all was okay.

Now, I am wary of men with accents. I am not into looks or money so much. Intelligence, kindness, sweetness and maybe a little swagger... That rocks me. An non-American accent will just do me in. Accents are sexy. I watch out for that because I married a man once and I am pretty sure the accent did something to my hormones. If he'd been from Tuscon, I might have dated him without going into heat. My crazy girlfriend just loves an accent. She once dated a guy for six months that she didn't even like because he had some kind of islander accent. This was around the time of Stella getting her groove back. I'm not even sure if my friend liked this guy enough to give her groove away. They talked on the phone a lot. Whatever.

My friend tends to stereotype situations and has no qualms about using friends as bait. As her black friend, I'm her magnet for guys with a Euro accent. We have another friend who has a body that's a freaking siren call for guys with any kind of "Island" accent. (We are all still shameless flirts. You get better at it with age.) Lately though, I'm not feeling cute. I don't even feel sociable. This didn't stop my friend from flirting her ass off with the guys at the store. (I need to talk with her about our age and the need for some mature dignity.)

So, there I am, nauseous, sweating and just wanting to get back in the truck where there is air conditioning. My friend is batting her eyes and chatting away with her new buddies. (I also need to talk to her about how silly the whole eye-battng thing s for a woman anywhere past high school. And, for us, high school is a really dim memory.)

Anyway, I finally tear the BFF away by  threatening to either faint or throw up. As we are walking off, the two guys start speaking, yeah, French. My friend, who has no self-esteem issues, wanted to believe they were being complimentary. Maybe. I couldn't help pointing out to her that the problem with hitting on foreign men is that they could be saying anything.

"Girl, they are checking out my ass and you know this."

We get home and, because my friend is a great friend, she sticks around to watch TV, help me cut my hair (again), try to fix food I might want to eat, etc. It wasn't until a few hours later that my sister noticed something on the butt of my friend's shorts.

"B____, how the hell do you have a bicycle tire mark on your behind?"

I don't think I even want to guess at how it happened, but, sure enough, my friend had a perfect tire mark right across the back of her pink shorts.

How the hell, right?

Anyway, I had such fun freaking her out with what those French dudes might have been saying. At least they probably really were checking out her ass.

Seriously, how did she get a tire mark on her ass?


P.S.: Number One - Typing this on a tablet (cos I had another PC mishap) so I hope it is readable. Number Two - Had to change my cell number after YEARS because of the stalker who is my ex; if I haven't sent you the new number, hit me via email.