Two Girls Go To A Diner

Every Saturday morning KC and I work out and then go get breakfast. Every week we go to the same place, order the same food from the same waitress...you get the drift. It's our way to wrap up the week, talk about what's on our minds and do some female bonding.

This week our blissful ritual was interrupted by, how do I say it? Men! Two burly, redneck men who are not regulars at this particular establishment. They walked in the door and stood next to our table staring. Since I am possessive of this time with KC I robustly ignored said rednecks.

"You sure look pretty," one of them said.

I made no eye contact and pretended these plaid-wearing-no-manners-belt-buckles-as-big-as-my-head gentleman would kindly find their booth.

"Your eyes are beautiful," the other proclaimed.

He was looking at KC who blushed and said, "Thanks.".

Thanks?!! Did I have to explain to KC how to blow off these guys? Did I have to let her know that women fought for the right to be respected, hold down jobs and not be ogled in public.

They eventually found their way to the booth. My back was to them but KC's wasn't.

"Your lips are pretty too," the first one said.

"Thanks," KC acknowledges AGAIN.

We continue gabbing because I am so not giving these guys one second of my attention. Hitting on women in a diner is so....so....desperate. Really! What did they think they were accomplishing?.

This brings me to the pic above. This is how I looked after the workout. (I can't speak for KC because she always looks pulled together) Even my cat doesn't find this appealing. Maybe I should have been flattered, but in my mind I looked like Patty with the leg stubble. Besides, I don't find this type of male behavior inspiring. It was really creepy.

Hubby was no help. When I complained to him about this (still a fetching sight in my post workout attire) and he couldn't understand why I didn't take the whole thing as a compliment.

"Oh, they were harmless," he said. "Why do some women get all offended when men say those things?".

I sputtered and then fell silent. I don't know why this bugged me. KC reacted with grace. I got mad.

Just call me Patty (and/or Selma).

Every Grape is Sacred

This classic Animal House clip reminds me of what I saw at the wine store yesterday.

I was waiting for the clerk to open a case of wine and then let me pay for my purchase. Before that happened, though, two bottles of wine toppled out of the box and on to the floor. Red wine! It was a sad, sad sight.

My friend, TJ, had a moment of silence for the dearly departed wine. (Did I mention she wasn't even at the store?) TJ is the founding member of the Grape Sanctity Club. If there ever was a person who mourns the loss of a drop of grape, it's TJ. Her reaction is the same as Belushi's. Horror, disbelief, extreme sorrow.

She asked if I dropped to the floor and started slurping up the now free merchandise. That didn't cross my mind...what with the broken glass and all. But if I was quick enough the five second rule would've applied.

Dude, Where's My Plane?

To the guy who sat next to me on the NWA flight this afternoon:

Dude,

I know you probably weren't real stoked to be in the middle seat, but, hey, it was an exit row and you had, like, some extra leg room. So that should have meant something. And I would have appreciated you not hanging your elbow over the arm rest while you were texting before take off. I get a little possessive of my limited space too. I hope you didn't think I was hitting on you when I just let my elbow push against yours, especially during the turbulence. I was hoping you'd get the point and quit hovering in my seat.

More importantly I would have been elated and relieved if you turned off your damn iPod when asked after the plane doors were closed. Hurtling down the runway at 100+ miles per hour while you were zoning to Fall Out Boy was probably no big deal for you; but I wondered if your sophisticated electronic equipment might interfere with the pilot's navigation system -- like they tell us in the preflight announcements. That all may be a load of crap, but why don't you find that out on another flight; not mine.

Did you consume large amounts of Red Bull beforehand? You were moving around so much that I considered sedating you with a tranquilizer dart or my Vulcan death grip. Slamming the seat back into the fully reclined position was classy too. But kudos for waiting until the announcement.

I also have to give you snaps for sticking to your guns and keeping that iPod on until we had landed. At least you are consistent. I'm also sure the cleaning crew can un-recline your seat in between flights (since you didn't have time to bring it to the full, upright position during the descent).

All in all, it was a swell trip. I hope you do well on your finals.

Hugs and Kisses,
The Exit Aisle Bitch Next To You

Why Speedy Gonzales May Have Been On To Something

Let me take you to the fastest sit down restaurant in town. All you'll need is about 15 minutes. In that time you'll have a drink, chips & salsa, and a meal....with time to spare. I don't get service this fast at Taco Bell.

Last week four of us from work went out to lunch. We didn't have long so we chose Laredo's. Here's the run down of how the meal went:

11:20am - leave the office
11:26 - pull into Laredo's parking lot
11:28 - walk in and ask for a table for four
11:28:15 - amble toward our table
11:28:16 - water and chips being put on table
11:28:18 - butt cheeks not yet in the booth
11:28:21 - being handed menu
11:28:45 - waiter asks for drink order
11:29:15 - finally take off coats and stash purses
11:29:20 - waiter asks for lunch order
11:29:25 - four hands start grabbing for chips and salsa
11:30:00 - begin small talk while crunching on chips
11:31:30 - meals are served

If you're looking for a leisurely dining experience, this ain't the place to go. If you want a sit-down lunch and time to make it back before your screen saver kicks in, this is your restaurant.

About seven minutes later one of our group is done with her meal. 3.8 seconds after her last swallow the bus boy comes buy to grab the plate. And so it continues until it is just me with my rice and beans. The bus boy is intent on swiping my plate away. "NO!" I yelp clutching the last remnants of my precious lunch. I have a leisurely 2.5 minutes left with my plate before it is empty, taken away and the bill arrives.

Before we know it we are stumbling back into the light of day, dazed, satiated but not quite relaxed.