A Night Out With the Girls
I have been cursed with the ability to laugh in any situation. It's really quite annoying, and unfortunately, it's become worse with the birth of my two additional tax deductions, ages 2 and 6.
Seriously, I'm the person who always laughs when they blow up the dummy to warn of the dangers of fireworks. I'm the one rolling on the floor when the unsuspecting newscaster unwittingly interviews the town drunk for a story and realizes that it was a bad idea. When my two-year old gives his six-year old the business because his older brother is out of pocket, I'm usually in a blind corner trying no to pee on myself.
Telling me not to laugh is like telling yourself not to have gas. It happens as the result of the interaction of multiple elements. What am I supposed to do when a woman insists upon walking over a sheet of ice in her Jimmy Choos and busts her behind? How am I supposed to react when a church elder tells 200 people in a church to soul search and examine themselves on their beds NAKED to further this purpose?
How about that friend we all have? You know who I'm talking about. The one who calmly calls it like she sees it while the rest of you insist on being polite and pretending you don't see it. Maybe you guys are having a girls' night out, when you find yourselves seated next to a woman wearing an Oreo-themed wig adorned with feathers and a strappy little black dress 2 sizes too tight which divides her two breasts into eight. (Stop while you think about it.) Your parents taught you to ignore such tomfoolery, but "that friend" can unravel you in ten seconds. Of course, she won't say anything, she hasn't seen said tom or fool. Instead, she'll be the last person in your group to see the Hydrox wanna be hot monkey mess. But when she does, Lord help all of you.
She won't be so droll as to say anything out loud. Instead, her eyes will flash with a WTH light before her face crumbles with incredulity. Not wanting to be rude, she'll cover the middle third of her face and lean to one side because she needs to steady herself. Since you already know what she's reacting to, one of the more polite members of your party will ask, "What's the matter?"
Now "that friend" finds herself in a quandry. She certainly doesn't want to say aloud what she's thinking. So she decides to speak to you in code to communicate that she's seen the hot monkey mess and that she finds it objectionable. What to do?
At this point, all the other members of the party recognize what's going on, but they've managed not to say a mumbling word. So instead they wait with bated breath while "that friend" puts together a response that doesn't get them killed.
Before "that friend" can respond Oreo queen says, "Ooooh, I like these 'scrimps'", forcing "that friend" to involuntarily sit up and glare in the direction of the missing "h".
The group starts tittering in a wave and one person exclaims, "Girl, you are so crazy."
Someone else snarfs her Moscato before she can add anything else.
"That friend" excuses herself from the table, goes to the car, and locks the door. She rests her head on the steering wheel as the most profane, ignorant bellow of a laugh arises from her belly.
The Oreo queen has won this battle.
Seriously, I'm the person who always laughs when they blow up the dummy to warn of the dangers of fireworks. I'm the one rolling on the floor when the unsuspecting newscaster unwittingly interviews the town drunk for a story and realizes that it was a bad idea. When my two-year old gives his six-year old the business because his older brother is out of pocket, I'm usually in a blind corner trying no to pee on myself.
Telling me not to laugh is like telling yourself not to have gas. It happens as the result of the interaction of multiple elements. What am I supposed to do when a woman insists upon walking over a sheet of ice in her Jimmy Choos and busts her behind? How am I supposed to react when a church elder tells 200 people in a church to soul search and examine themselves on their beds NAKED to further this purpose?
How about that friend we all have? You know who I'm talking about. The one who calmly calls it like she sees it while the rest of you insist on being polite and pretending you don't see it. Maybe you guys are having a girls' night out, when you find yourselves seated next to a woman wearing an Oreo-themed wig adorned with feathers and a strappy little black dress 2 sizes too tight which divides her two breasts into eight. (Stop while you think about it.) Your parents taught you to ignore such tomfoolery, but "that friend" can unravel you in ten seconds. Of course, she won't say anything, she hasn't seen said tom or fool. Instead, she'll be the last person in your group to see the Hydrox wanna be hot monkey mess. But when she does, Lord help all of you.
She won't be so droll as to say anything out loud. Instead, her eyes will flash with a WTH light before her face crumbles with incredulity. Not wanting to be rude, she'll cover the middle third of her face and lean to one side because she needs to steady herself. Since you already know what she's reacting to, one of the more polite members of your party will ask, "What's the matter?"
Now "that friend" finds herself in a quandry. She certainly doesn't want to say aloud what she's thinking. So she decides to speak to you in code to communicate that she's seen the hot monkey mess and that she finds it objectionable. What to do?
At this point, all the other members of the party recognize what's going on, but they've managed not to say a mumbling word. So instead they wait with bated breath while "that friend" puts together a response that doesn't get them killed.
Before "that friend" can respond Oreo queen says, "Ooooh, I like these 'scrimps'", forcing "that friend" to involuntarily sit up and glare in the direction of the missing "h".
The group starts tittering in a wave and one person exclaims, "Girl, you are so crazy."
Someone else snarfs her Moscato before she can add anything else.
"That friend" excuses herself from the table, goes to the car, and locks the door. She rests her head on the steering wheel as the most profane, ignorant bellow of a laugh arises from her belly.
The Oreo queen has won this battle.
Comments