So - what's new you might be wondering. Well. I have a new job. Actually the second one this year. We're not going to talk about the hell that was my previous job. I like the current job, love the new friends I've made, so everything is good on that front.
Had to move back home after 10 years of being on my own. That sucked.
Not much else is new. I know...I lead a thrilling life, right?
Don't answer that question. It was rhetorical. And if you don't know what rhetorical means you need to stop reading right now and leave. Seriously. GO!
Okay, back to what I came here to write about.
So, as some of you know, and most of you don't, I have a friend (and I use that term very loosely) named Mac. That's not her real name, but that's what I call her because, well...I just do.
Mac is a special kind of a person. And no, I don't mean "rides the short bus" kind of special. To phrase it, bluntly, she puts the ho in whore. And I'm not exaggerating...trust me.
I have known Mac for over 10 years. I met her during my brief time up at UNR. We only hung out once or twice, and she's mainly just an internet "friend" that I speak to when I'm online once every month or so.
She tends to overshare...a lot...so I try to limit said contact to 10 minutes or less. It's like a really long chess match.
So earlier this week I ran to Walmart on my lunch break to get apples. I went in the back to grab a soda and just as I'd put a ginormous Coke in my basket I hear someone yell my name. I turn around and it's her. My insides literally cringed.
Then I get a good look at what she's wearing. Oh my goes through my head in George Takei's voice. She has on a very thin white tank top and no bra, so yes, you can see her nipples. She also has on a very thin pair of white linen capri's with a bright red thong under. Seriously? I would've taken a picture for the "People of Walmart" page if I could've done it without raising suspicion or giving her the wrong impression.
I'm standing there, looking wildly around, praying no one else I know is there at that moment and then I say hello to her. She asks me the usual - you know, "How are you? How's work? What's new?" Blah, blah, blahhhhhhhh....
I try to be as vague as possible, not because I care if she knows, but because I'm on a time limit and she can talk for-ev-er!
She happens to look down at my feet while I'm answering one of her questions and she see my "SUPER, AWESOME, AMAZING" Vans that I got for my birthday and she says, "OH! Those are sooooooooo cute!" And then she just walks over to me and pulls my pant* leg up so she can look at them. *Side note: I was wearing boot cut jeans so the shoes were mostly covered by my pants.
Now, this is important to know. At least I think it is. I hate wearing shoes. HATE IT! I would go barefoot everywhere if I could...except for public restrooms and locker rooms. No bueno. I also don't like socks. I have issues with my feet being constrained in any form. To make it bearable for me I wear the craziest socks I can find. And that day was no exception.
I was wearing white, yellow, and green striped socks. They're St. Patty's Day socks. My Vans are blue and purple plaid. Mac sees my socks, which, admittedly clash horribly with my shoes. Do I care? That would be a big, fat, NO!
She looks up at me, back down at my socks, then back up at me and says, "Um, hello, you can't wear stripes and plaid together," in a tone that denotes she thinks I'm an idiot.
Now, I have an averse reaction to people criticizing (the non-constructive variety, of course) what I'm wearing for a multitude of reasons, but I take special offense when said person is dressed like trailer trash.
And I can use the term trailer trash because I spent a good portion of my formative years living in a trailer in Golden Valley. I would also like it noted that not everyone who lives in a trailer is trailer trash, but you know trailer trash when you see it. It's a very distinct style.
So, without missing a beat words start pouring out of my mouth before I can run them through my filter, which doesn't happen often despite what everyone else thinks. I usually run what I'm thinking through a filter before I say it and then I either keep it to myself, or I say "fuck it" and say what I'm thinking no matter who it might offend.
At this point I'm sure you're all wondering what it is that I said, so I'll share it with you because, well, if I didn't then I just wasted x amount of your time and that would just be mean.
Are you guys ready for it? Okay...
"Yeah, because I'm going to take fashion advice from someone wearing a bright red thong under white pants and a white tank with no bra that's so thin I can see nipples. Did they give you a day pass off of 4th street?"
Her jaw literally dropped. Like in the cartoons.
Now, if this was a normal situation...or someone I had patience with and/or liked...the day pass portion of aforementioned comment would never have made it past the filter. Unless I was drunk. I don't use the filter when I'm inebriated.
Her response was, "You're not nice."
So I responded with what I always respond with when someone says that to me and I said, " Whoever told you I was nice, well, they lied to you." And then I walked off.
Now, I'm sure those of you that know me, are laughing hysterically. And I am beyond pleased I could make you laugh. I'm also pretty sure that those of you who don't know me are thinking I'm a giant bitch. I assure you that I'm not...for the most part. There are just some things that I lose my temper over, and where Mac is concerned, I lose my temper a lot because she is one of those people you really want to get rid of, but nothing you say or do makes them stay away forever.
So if you have any ideas...any ideas at all on what I can do to make her go far, far away - please post them below.
Is Nicolas Cage really as crazy as he seems? Or is he just that good of an actor?
That's Right, I Googled It:
Stuck On Repeat:
Take A Walk by Passion Pit
Who Would Be The "Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner":
In a contest of inanity - Eric Idle or John Cleese?
Quote Zem On Zat:
Rod Kimble: I used to be legit. I was too legit. I was too legit to quit. But now I'm not legit. I'm unlegit. And for that reason, I must quit.
Hasta La Bye Bye!