Hellooooooo!
In my mind, I just said that like Mrs. Doubtfire.
Oh my GOD, you can find ANYTHING onYouTube.
First of all, I want to say THANK YOU to the person who...did the nice thing for me Friday afternoon. I don't wanna ruin the surprise for the rest of you, but you know who you are, nice person. When I got the email saying you'd done the...nice thing, I almost burst into tears! Yay!
So what'd y'all do all weekend?
I went to First Friday in Winston Salem and saw this puppy snickerpoo at a gallery. She is a French bulldoggy. She is six cute months old. Oh! How I loved her. I know that is shocking information. And look! She's even my dog color scheme!
We were supposed to hang with D Whitman at First Friday--in fact, going there was his idea entirely. And when I say "we" were supposed to hang with D Whitman, I mean Ned and me, not Fronchie, up there. Yes, I just named her Fronchie. I am so getting a French bulldog and naming it Fronchie, just to be obnoxious.
My POINT is, Ned came to get me and right before we got in the car, I took my vitamins. I've been trying to take my One-a-Day for wimmins, which by the way I have to get in the teensy size, because ever since I started living alone I've had this fear Ima choke on something and die here with no Hemlicher. So I get the tiny One-a-Days, which means you have to take TWO of them, which renders the name of the product useless.
So I take my two One-a-Days and get in the car, and the last time I'd eaten had been right at noon and here it was almost 7:00 and I've taken two One-a-Days and let me tell you what. We got to about Kernersville and I was all, "I feel a little barfy."
I know the part where I just said we got to Kernersville means something to approximately 7 of you. Good catering to your audience, June. Let's just say we were maybe 20 minutes out of town, okay? Persnickety?
"Can you, um, turn down the heat?" I asked, feeling decidedly peckish.
Dudes. By the time we got to Woodstock and Winston-Salem, I FELT AWFUL. I got out the car and I was all, Oh, Ima barf. Ima barf right here at First Friday.
We'd been gonna meet Dick Whitman and some of his friends at the bar we go to, the one that serves old-fashioned drinks that are 400% alcohol. Whitman had said, "You wanna meet there first, or dinner first?" and I'd been all, Oh the drink place first! But when reality hit, I tried calling Whitman.
Why does one pay $850 a month for a mobile phone if one is not gonna answer it? And I noticed he'd done the thing, the thing where if I am THIRTY SECONDS LATE, he texts me. I have told him before this IRRITATES me, and if I'm, you know, TWENTY minutes late, okay. Ask where I am. But texting me at 7:07? Ima bust a cap in your ass.
Ima bust a '90s phrase out too. See how you like THAT, Whitman.
"Wherefore art thou, June?" he'd texted.
"We have to go RIGHT to a restaurant," I said to Ned, who thought this would be the PERFECT time to suggest we try someplace new, three blocks away.
"I GOT THE WATER JETS IN MY MOUTH. WE'RE EATING RIGHT HERE, AT THIS RESTAURANT IN FRONT OF US. HERE."
But of course, before we did that, we had to schlep over to where Whit was waiting for us. I had tried calling him NINETY-TWO TIMES and he wasn't picking up. Nor had he answered my text.
"There you are!" he said, with a brand-new mint julep in his un-phoneded hand.
"WHY DON'T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE," I screeched. "Ima BARF, AND I HAVE TO EAT NOW, and 'Wherefore art thou' doesn't mean 'Where are you,' it means 'Why are you' READ YOUR FUCKING SHAKESPEARE!" I said, storming out with my water jets.
Ten minutes later I was eating, THANK GOD, and I have no idea how we got such fast service on First Friday, other than God did not wanna see me barf in front of gallery hoppers.
"I feel so much better," I said to Ned.
"I just feel relieved to see the end of Attitude June," he said.
Hmph!
"So it's not important to you that I feel better, just that I'm more cheerful," I said, returning Attitude June to her rightful place.
Here is vaguely terrified-looking Ned right after that exchange.
What?
The point is, once we went back to the bar where Whit and friends were mint juleping, they were gone. I texted him. "We're at the restaurant!" he said.
Oh for the love of God.
So we never really saw each other that night. Which is just as well. Because I think Ned wanted all-June-all-the-time right then. I was a DELIGHT.
The end.
