It was me...

Oh the joys of a weekend.

JP, Tiki and I went out Friday night. We got a late start, as I was slingin’ the beans, so by the time that we got out everyone had had several hours on us. Actually so did Tiki, but that’s a different story. So off to the corner Irish pub we go. We stayed for approximately 20 minutes, as when we finally got our drinks, and found a place to stand- about 2 feet from the drunken making-out couple next to us- JP said, “It smells like barf over here”. I looked towards her and said, “It’s probably because you’re almost leaning against some on that ledge behind you.” JP quickly moved, we finished our drinks (all the while rooting for the drunken lov-ah’s to roll into it- to no avail) and left for the Brew Co. down the street.

At the Brew Co. we grabbed our beers and headed out to the patio. Sitting chatting with one another, a girl came and squatted down at the table next to us. This girl happened to not be wearing any panties. “Why do I know this?” you may ask… well as half (I swear I’m not exaggerating) her ass was on display for the world to see, I can vow it to be true. We laughed, the guy smoking next to us laughed… but did she stand up to rectify this near-rectal error? No. The guy said some comment about putting his butt out in her butt, and we all laughed again at the White Trash Princess (WTP).

The bar closed and began to walk out. JP (swears accidentally) bumped into some guy. In a movie-like fashion, his pitcher of beer flew up into the air and then down the front of his white shirt. We left the guy repeatedly saying, “That 's just not cool”, met three random guys, crawled into the back of their too-cramped car and headed to what would be the last bar of the evening. Getting out of the car a walking-cane caught around one of my heels and I asked the driver if he needed a cane. His friend said that it was actually part of his Halloween costume this last year. I threw it back amongst basketballs and other various things that I probably don’t want to know were there, told them that it would be okay to clean out his car once in a while, and headed into one of the few last open (read: packed) bars. We got drinks and went to the bathroom (with Tiki of course- always in pairs). On the way out of the restroom a girl in line randomly stopped me, shook my hand and asked my how I was doing. I said fine, and walked away, asking Tiki if she knew who that girl was. We didn’t, and moved out to the patio. Out on the patio, the hand-shaker came back up to me, and I realized that it was WTP from the last bar.

I am not a petit girl. Without shoes I’m 5’9” with my heels I’m around 6’. So when the pint sized WTP came up- at least a head shorter than me- with her attitude all in my face and said, “Did you say I shopped at Whores-R-Us at the Brew Co?” I started laughing. JP had her back to WTP and was loosing it laughing. I told WTP that I didn’t say it, but had I thought of it I would have, as it was hilarious. Mind you I had checked out whom she came with, and I had nothing to fear as far as someone jumping in on this. WTP started to laugh as well. I then decided I really didn’t appreciate her getting in my grill, in my space, asking me stupid questions (oh the joys of intoxication), and began to verbally push her a bit to get her riled up once again. “It’s funny,” I said, “because everyone in the last bar was making fun of your trashy outfit. Even some random guy I don’t know was making fun of you.” This got her. She got in my face (or as near to it as she could) and Tiki started to step in.

Tiki loves this stuff. She has been taking boxing classes for over a year, and would love to spar with someone other than at the gym or the punching bag. The crowds we usually hang-out with don’t attract the need for the excessive use of force, and Tiki has had this talent lay useless in the realm of real violence (oh darn).

I told Tiki to step back and I would take care of it, WTP got in my face and yelled. I calmly, yet with force, said “If you don’t get the fuck out of my face right now- I will fucking hit you.” (Oh my mother would be proud of me now…)

Just as I was ready to hit her, one of the random guys we came with step between us and moved her away, all the while WTP crying “Why you gotta hate? Why you gotta hate?” Are we in Compton now??? I had no idea.

Now an amazing thing happens when two girls get in each others face in a bar. Herds of guys from all over will gather to watch it unfold. These two guys came upto me, needing the scoop on why “two beautiful girls would be fighting”. Are you joking me? Did they even look at her?

We called it a night, JP still dying laughing at the fiasco, Tiki worked up, and me still stunned at how random that entire thing was.

As we walked to the car (we found a much better ride home) JP said, “It was me.”

I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, “What 'was' you?” I asked.

“I said she shopped at Whores-R-Us leaving the Brew Co… but God- that was hilarious!”

Hilarious indeed.