Pardon Me, Are You Wearing This?

Do you ever find yourself in an awkward situation, or one where perhaps you should feel awkward, but you can't help but just laugh? Hysterically. I sometimes react this way. Okay, I often react this way. Maybe it is my coping mechanism. No, let's face it, I just have no sympathy for certain types of people.

For instance, people with poor taste. Well, specifically, people with taste that I deem to be poor. I can recognize that people's taste vary. Certainly there are people who look at me and would think that I have bad taste. (we refer to them as idiots) They are entitled to their opinions, wrong though they may be.

While shopping with a friend and her son today I was laughing at a particular item of clothing hanging on a clearance rack, which reminded me of a time that one of my friends and I were doing the exact same thing, in a very boisterous fashion, when she suddenly got a horrified look on her face and pointed, sure enough, standing just a few feet from us, was a woman wearing the exact article of clothing we were mocking. Also not surprising, it looked as hideous on the woman as it did on the hanger. I can call this stuff people, I promise.

Before one of you gets high and mighty and says to yourself, this from the girl in a white t-shirt with a black bra on under it in her pic, uh, DUH, the name of the fucking blog is WICKED GIRLS, take a closer look at the pic, everyone has a certain feature they should emphasize, I know what mine is and I emphasize it accordingly. Plus, that was taken in my house, not like I was on my way to a committee meeting, fucktards! (and no, that wasn't a racial slur, so don't go racing off to bitch about me on your Facebook page)

Anyway, he thought that was hilarious and we moved on, I had great success with my shopping and then I met back up with them. At which point he was positively beaming. He had great news. He had spotted a woman in the store wearing the very fur vest we had been making fun of so he had snuck an iPhone pic of her and posted it to his FB, titled it "Woman Who Wrestles With Bears". I couldn't help but laugh, mind you, he is 18, so my bad influence isn't technically extending to a minor.



After a brief trip around the mall, which was relatively uneventful, well, as uneventful as anything can be when the three of us are travelling together, we moved on to Sam's Club. Now, it must be said that I am loathe to enter this damn building on my very best of days. I equate Sam's with a Walmart that has somehow convinced me to pay them money just to earn the right to pay them to buy their merchandise. WTF??!!! How in the hell did this happen? Oh, exclusive membership. I like exclusivity. Keeps out all of that riff raff you have to walk over and under and around in the regular Wally World.(which we have already determined I am allergic to anyway) Right?



Stab me in the eyes now. Thanks for sending the pic so I would never forget this. Too kind of you, dahling. Actually, this pic was kind, he skipped the woman wearing what was formerly known as a jogging suit. Let's face it, once you stretch a piece of fabric onto a certain amount of flesh and it has shaped and stretched and conformed until it looks like sausage casing, it just has to be called something else, like, "holding on for dear life suit". Nor did he photograph the two gentlemen in their matching overalls, unwashed for, I am estimating here, 4 to 5 days, worn for, again I am estimating, 5 to 6 days. So, fuck you for charging me to wander your over sized walls with the same scary people who wander your other horrid stores. Moreover, fuck me for falling for your ploy.

My last foray into public was later this evening, I have been asked to make jello shots, coordinating with the team colors, of course, for a Super Bowl party tomorrow evening, and needed to get the jello and cups. As I was checking out at the local grocery store, the bagger and checker were discussing what their super hero costume would consist of, the bagger was explaining that his would be all black, with a leopard print cape and tho, uh, speedo, as he decided to go with speedo, he grinned slyly at me. I laughed and said, "Good choice, no man alive can make a thong look good, not even a super hero." and winked at him. He immediately started to blush. The checker is laughing now too and asked me what mine would be. I just opened my jacket and grinned at him. They both smiled and nodded. The bagger told me I rocked and I finished my transaction, told them both to enjoy the rest of their weekend and was smiling as I left.

When I slid into my safe haven, also known as my sweet little car, my current favorite loud jam was playing,
I turned the music up really loud and continued to smile for the couple of minutes it took to get home. Remembering that sometimes, regardless of all the shit that hits the fan in the peripheral fan that is the life outside my soul, it can still be really incredibly nice just being me.