You know....

I've been trying really hard not to show my ass in public this summer. Mostly because it's too hot to get pissed off. It's fucking miserable here and I hate the heat and if I get pissed I often leave the place I'm pissed then I'm out in the heat so I've been working on enhancing my calm.


So, today I'm at the cafe with Snotty Chicklit Writer and we're in our usual spot with iced coffee which she thinks could be one of the signs of the apocalypse but still drinks like it's ambrosia. (I was informed when I questioned this that she was old and southern and she could be fucking eccentric if she wanted. I could only nod.)


And these two women come in and the one dressed in this really cute blue summer suit was just bitching up a storm but not that fun kind of bitching--but more like cruel bitching and her companion who we later figured must work for her in some way was taking the brunt of the cruelty. I checked -- I didn't see any Prada on her personage so obviously she wasn't The Devil but I think she could have been her agent.


So, the Wicked Witch and her much abused assistant/whipping post (I bet her flying monkeys formed a union and went on strike due to a hostile work environment) take a table less than ten feet from us and for the next 60 minutes she berates this poor girl while they eat--often she talks with her mouth full and 15 minutes into this experience I'm completely grossed out and I'm reconsidering ordering my own lunch. Her horribleness was FIERCE.


So, at some point during this HOUR OF UTTER MISERY Snotty Chicklit Writer and I start talking about her in that snobby, southern belle way that goes like this:

Snotty Chicklit Writer: I cannot believe her.
Me: I know. It's like she was raised by wolves.
Snotty Chicklit Writer: Or a ex-hooker turned long distance truck driver from New Jersey.
ETC
ETC
ETC


Until, this silly evil woman turns to us and says: "Are you talking about me? You can both shut the fuck up!"

To which I respond: "You should probably go home before some whiny, maladjusted teenage girl with a shoe fetish from Kansas drops a house on you."

Then I spent five minutes cleaning up the iced coffee that Snotty Chicklit Writer sprayed practically everywhere.