**Warning: This post has a few bad words in it. Not too many. But it does have the big one at the very end. If you might be offended by this, please feel free to skip this post. However, it is pretty funny.**
A few years back, Greg and I started the tradition of going shopping on Black Friday. While it was his idea to start this tradition, I would like to set the record straight.
My husband? Does not like to shop.
My husband? Does love a good deal.
He loves a good deal so much that, at one point, we had 4 different riding lawn mowers in or around our garage simply because he got a good deal on them.
He’s thinking of changing his name to Red Fox.
(Name that TV show!)
Black Friday = Awesomesauce for Greg.
Black Friday = Not so much for Tara because Greg drags her out of bed at 11:30pm on Thanksgiving night because he is too excited to sleep.
I thought I would share a snippet of some of our random conversations that took place on Black Friday:
This first phrase was not the result of one of us. No, no. This little gem was actually brought to your computer screen by a lovely white-trash skank in Wal-Mart (surprise, surprise!) who had a cart heaped full of stuff and was cutting through every check-out line while on her phone screaming at, what I can only assume to be her baby daddy. When she is two lanes over from where we are standing she abruptly stops talking into her bejeweled cell phone and starts yelling at a guy in line, “Hey! You wanna move?! I’m just tryin’ to get through!”
To which he replies, “I ain’t movin’! You weren’t trying to just get through! You were trying to butt in line!”
She flips him the bird, barrels through his line and continues on through the next.
Greg pipes up and says, “You did look like you were going to jump the line.”
She then says, “He needs to quit bein’ such a mouth ass.”
::pause for interpretation::
::pause for reflection::
::pause for WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot is this broad talking about??::
Without missing a beat, Greg responds, “Whoa whoa whoa. Now I’ve heard of swamp ass but what’s mouth ass? Lady, you’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”
Of course, by then she was off to prey on her next unsuspecting victim that had just wasted the last hour of their life in line at The Wal.
Everyone around us laughed.
I died from a combination of laughter & humiliation.
Less than one minute later, a man followed in bat-shit-crazy lady’s path. Only difference? He did cut in line.
That’s right. While the rest of the world waited in line for over an hour, he just jumped right to the front like he was the damn President.
But he wasn’t the President.
He was scary.
Like so scary that Greg told me to choose my battles because he didn’t want to get shanked over my big mouth.
Five (or so; time really stops when you are stuck in an eternal line at Wal-Mart) minutes later, the store goes totally quiet.
You know how it gets just before a tornado hits?
It was like that.
The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Out of nowhere, Greg says, “If I were a manager right now, I’d get on the intercom and be like, “Beep beep, muthafuckers! You guys better get to work!”
I’m not sure that I ever laughed so hard in my life at that man. I think it was the combination of being sleep-deprived, eating too much turkey the night before & being equally scared of the eerily quiet Wal-Mart & the man who jumped the line, but I dissolved into a puddle of laughter.
Luckily, so did everybody else around us.
He’s really good at breaking the tension.
If you want to book him for your next office party, contact me.