Oh, my God. I nailed it. I FINALLY figured out why the new sales manager is driving me so batshit crazy.
He just called his wife back, ostensibly having missed a call from her.
"you RANNNNNG," he said, a la Lurch from the Addams Family.
MOTHER FUCKER MY EX HUSBAND USED TO SAY THAT EVERY FUCKING TIME HE WOULD CALL ME BACK.
And we all know how that worked out.
Mystery, solved. Now I'm off to find a missing airplane. Obvs, I am on a roll.
Showing posts with label Back in The Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Back in The Day. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
College Enemy-Maker
I don't even know what to talk to you people person about. I am So Boring. So, I think I'll tell a college story, instead.
I was a sorority girl. Shocking, I know, but I deliberately chose a crappy, smaller sorority, one that was known for partying and one that was, although I didn't know it, imminently in danger of losing its charter at the end of my freshman year. Which it did. We all went alum. Me, I thought it was great, because I was drunk the whole year, and nobody brought me before standards, and I was knocked up by the end of the spring term but got to go alum before anybody could kick me out like they did to Penny, who got CAUGHT WITH A BOY IN HER ROOM. Poor Penny.
Anyway, so I was a little tiny yankee in a gaggle of big-haired southern girls, all of whom were at least six months older than me. Note: I'm not really a yankee, but I went to high school in Connecticut, where I learned how to play lacross and field hockey, which are both stupid games, although the uniforms for field hockey involve a plaid skirt and knee-high socks. That shit is cute.
Anyway, so there was ONE OTHER GIRL in the whole sorority who was also from New England. Her name was Stacy, and I swear to God, I think she was probably the most fun in our sorority. However, she hated me. HATED ME. It was visceral, and I think it was chemical, because I did not deserve her wrath, truly. I wanted nothing more than to be as cool as Stacy was.
In efforts to get her into Team Sarah, I tried to be witty and awesome. One time, she mentioned that she had been out all night, the night before, dancing on the "beach," which is a strip of dirty sand between two of LSU's lakes. I was young enough for that to have sounded AHMAZINGOHMGOSHAWESOME, so I tried to join the convo. "I want to be like you. All 'fuck the world - but use a condom.'" In retrospect, I fully understand that she basically heard me call her a whore, but that is not at all what I meant. I meant, I want to be free-spirited, to do what I want, to live life to the fullest... but no. Also, I was probably drunk.
Anyway, she went hot-red in the face. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY," she spat at me. Terrified - mind you, I was little, very young, and drunk - and Stacy wasn't a tiny petite girl, although she was short. She definitely could kick my ass - I go, "um... fuck... the world but... use a condom? You know, because it's awesome..." and she came at me. Fists a'flying.
I'd have just taken my ass-kicking, but my Extremely Conservative Southern Baptist Naturally Curly-Haired Big Sis (and she brushed her curls into a fluff of frizz every day, god love her), uncharacteristically jumped in between us. "YOU WILL LEAVE MY LIL SIS* ALONE," she shouted. Pretty much everybody else in the room froze and stared, including me. Including Stacy. "SHE DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT AND NOBODY WILL BEAT UP MY LIL SIS*."
I mean, seriously. Wendy got pissy if you turned the channel while she was watching Days. She was a wimp. She was the kind of person that we freaked out by forcing her to watch porn so we could all laugh at her responses to it. Wendy was a homebody, and she was NOT the kind of person to get into a fight. Me, maybe. But not Wendy.
And just like that, the fight was over, thanks to my freaking hero, Wendy. Stacy would have broken my nose.
I have fished Stacy out on Facebook (we are still very much not friends, although one of her besties is a girl I really like a lot and get along with well), and she owns a hair studio or some such, in a place like Michigan. I mean, I think I win, Stacy. I may be poor as a church mouse, but I don't ever have to wash anybody else's hair, and I use mah brayun fo' a livin'. And I don't have to live in Michigan. So there's that, too.
But I still just sit in awe, thinking about Wendy - a girl whose first email address was a french phrase that meant "Queen Wendy" or something equally nerdy - a girl whose first car was a mini-van, for Chrissake**, that's the girl that got my back.
But you know what I always say... fuck the world.
But use a condom.
*Yes, we actually said "lil sis" and "big sis." I have no idea why it didn't sound douchey to us back then.
** Yes, my first car was also, actually, a minivan. shut the fuck up.
I was a sorority girl. Shocking, I know, but I deliberately chose a crappy, smaller sorority, one that was known for partying and one that was, although I didn't know it, imminently in danger of losing its charter at the end of my freshman year. Which it did. We all went alum. Me, I thought it was great, because I was drunk the whole year, and nobody brought me before standards, and I was knocked up by the end of the spring term but got to go alum before anybody could kick me out like they did to Penny, who got CAUGHT WITH A BOY IN HER ROOM. Poor Penny.
Anyway, so I was a little tiny yankee in a gaggle of big-haired southern girls, all of whom were at least six months older than me. Note: I'm not really a yankee, but I went to high school in Connecticut, where I learned how to play lacross and field hockey, which are both stupid games, although the uniforms for field hockey involve a plaid skirt and knee-high socks. That shit is cute.
Anyway, so there was ONE OTHER GIRL in the whole sorority who was also from New England. Her name was Stacy, and I swear to God, I think she was probably the most fun in our sorority. However, she hated me. HATED ME. It was visceral, and I think it was chemical, because I did not deserve her wrath, truly. I wanted nothing more than to be as cool as Stacy was.
In efforts to get her into Team Sarah, I tried to be witty and awesome. One time, she mentioned that she had been out all night, the night before, dancing on the "beach," which is a strip of dirty sand between two of LSU's lakes. I was young enough for that to have sounded AHMAZINGOHMGOSHAWESOME, so I tried to join the convo. "I want to be like you. All 'fuck the world - but use a condom.'" In retrospect, I fully understand that she basically heard me call her a whore, but that is not at all what I meant. I meant, I want to be free-spirited, to do what I want, to live life to the fullest... but no. Also, I was probably drunk.
Anyway, she went hot-red in the face. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY," she spat at me. Terrified - mind you, I was little, very young, and drunk - and Stacy wasn't a tiny petite girl, although she was short. She definitely could kick my ass - I go, "um... fuck... the world but... use a condom? You know, because it's awesome..." and she came at me. Fists a'flying.
I'd have just taken my ass-kicking, but my Extremely Conservative Southern Baptist Naturally Curly-Haired Big Sis (and she brushed her curls into a fluff of frizz every day, god love her), uncharacteristically jumped in between us. "YOU WILL LEAVE MY LIL SIS* ALONE," she shouted. Pretty much everybody else in the room froze and stared, including me. Including Stacy. "SHE DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT AND NOBODY WILL BEAT UP MY LIL SIS*."
I mean, seriously. Wendy got pissy if you turned the channel while she was watching Days. She was a wimp. She was the kind of person that we freaked out by forcing her to watch porn so we could all laugh at her responses to it. Wendy was a homebody, and she was NOT the kind of person to get into a fight. Me, maybe. But not Wendy.
And just like that, the fight was over, thanks to my freaking hero, Wendy. Stacy would have broken my nose.
I have fished Stacy out on Facebook (we are still very much not friends, although one of her besties is a girl I really like a lot and get along with well), and she owns a hair studio or some such, in a place like Michigan. I mean, I think I win, Stacy. I may be poor as a church mouse, but I don't ever have to wash anybody else's hair, and I use mah brayun fo' a livin'. And I don't have to live in Michigan. So there's that, too.
But I still just sit in awe, thinking about Wendy - a girl whose first email address was a french phrase that meant "Queen Wendy" or something equally nerdy - a girl whose first car was a mini-van, for Chrissake**, that's the girl that got my back.
But you know what I always say... fuck the world.
But use a condom.
*Yes, we actually said "lil sis" and "big sis." I have no idea why it didn't sound douchey to us back then.
** Yes, my first car was also, actually, a minivan. shut the fuck up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)