Inspirational My ...

I had a friend in college. That sounded awkward. I have a friend who I see every Christmas whether we want to or not. I'm kidding. She moved to the other side of town and we keep missing each other. I need to email her. I call her "mom" but I consider her like an older sister. Always shot from the hip. She once told me, the older you got, the less you liked people. Oh… oh! That was the last time I saw her… guess I won't be sending that email… I'm kidding. 

 

Don't get me wrong, I still like people. I just don't go out of my way to kiss ass anymore. (yes, I'm still co-dependant on my crip circle, I've gone mean, not mad.) But now a good Friday night is watching six feet under with my husband and my favorite gal pal. A great Friday includes fondue. (yes, that was a cry for help.) and I still try to be nice. (shut up bob… please.)…

 

I'm not proud of it but I think my college friend would say "that's my girl." Yesterday I went to the grocery with Bobby and this lady begins to stalk me. First of all, why can't I ever have a male hunk stalker? See if a male hunky stalker called me inspirational, I could find a way to accept it. But no…

 

So this lady, I've never met walks up to bob, touches me on my shoulder and tells Bobby how special I am. And she leaves, going into the store. In my "nicer years" either I'd cry or I'd try to laugh her off.

 

I turned to bob and I say, "I'll give you 50 bucks if you go up to the lady and say, ya know, looks can be deceiving because my wife is actually a real bitch and my son is terrified of her." So. Only half of that statement would be a lie, no we will not discuss which half is false. Even more disturbing, I think I was serious.

 

I'm not special, I'm certainly not inspirational. When I think of someone inspirational, I think of a selfless giver. Now really does that sound like me? Please keep your comments to yourselves, especially the Crip Club. Its one thing to acknowledge I'm not inspirational. It's another to hear just how not I am.

 

Of course Bobby didn't do it. because he… well, I didn't have the cash on me and he isn't taking my paper iou's anymore. After my "under water basket weaving flea mart" idea…

 

So I spent the next 30 minutes zooming around Krogers trying to avoid my stalker. Because I was trying to speed up the process, I knew she would catch me with an odd assortment of stuff on my lap like toilet paper, syrup, and frozen peas. And ask why. And I would want to explain that it is two hours past my son's bedtime and I'm just trying to speed up the shopping progress. But of course all she would understand is "blah, blah, blah." Reinforcing how truly “special” I am.

 

I just love happy endings. I'm glad to say this story kinda frizzled out. The lady disappeared and we drove into the moonlight with two weeks of food.

 

And I realized, "mom" was right. I am getting meaner and blunter in my old age. Damn, she'll be proud of me. She taught me good