I’ll Have The Chicken

I went down to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat.

Yesss… I see pasta.

I’m starving and, of course, there are 2 people in front of me who can’t decide what they want.

Out of nowhere, the good looking guy next to me says…

him: the chicken looks good.
me: (suddenly adjusting my posture) sure does.
him: (smiles and winks at me) let’s go for the chicken
—-ummm… LET’s???? did he just say ‘let’s”???
me: let’s.

We both order the chicken and I pay first (still wondering what he meant by “let’s”). I figured, if he follows me to the table, then I know.

I sit.

He sits at the table next to mine, facing me and smiles.

A’ight.

I smile back and as classy as one can cut a piece of chicken with a plastic knife and fork, I proceed to do so.

I take my first bite.

Chew. Chew. And then the clearing-of-the-throat thing starts to happen. — OK, Tania… keep your cool. Just drink some water.

Of course, drinking water would require that I open my mouth. I can’t open my mouth. You see, the piece of flippin chicken I had just bitten into was covered in an Asian-infused sauce I couldn’t pronounce. An unpronounceable sauce I am now sure translated into the words “this chicken is flavored to taste like the inter-sanctum of Hades.”

I thought of spitting it into my napkin but guess who forgot to grab napkins? How on earth am I supposed to smile, pay for my food, keep my posture and remember to grab napkins???

So I have no other choice but to swallow the slimy, lavaric bit of poultry. What was that for? Not only did the clearing-of-the-throat sound become a steady cough, suddenly my eyes start to tear up. Still trying to play it cool, I manage to get the words out…

me: whoa, this is really hot.

he’s still smiling… clearly not realizing my head is about to combust.

him: yeah. doesn’t it taste amazing?

People, just so you know, turns out the devil really is good looking.

I lift my shaking hands to my eyes in a last ditch effort to stop the tears from trailing down my cheek while simultaneously trying to grasp for air through my failed attempts to do the sexy-cough (oh, shut-up!). And as if things couldn’t get any worse, wouldn’t you know it, that’s when my nose starts to run. Flowing like the Mississippi River during a torrential down pour.

That’s about the time Beelzebub realizes what’s going on. I suddenly sense him standing next to me as he offers me a napkin from the few he had remembered to grab. At this point he has to place it directly in front of my face because I no longer have peripheral vision.

I grab all of the napkins from him as if they were a life-bouy, clutching the small stack with both hands, wiping off my nose and eyes… in that order (I said, shut-up!).

All elegance and decorum is long gone right after I blow my nose and just before I GULP my water down.

I see him looking at me so I compose myself as best I can.

me: well that was interesting.
him: maybe you should’ve had the pasta.

I hate that guy.

I hate him so much.

Ratchet Bun and Pink Lipstick

Ladies,

Ever wake up with a heavy heart saying… no… (inwardly) SHOUTING… to the world ENOUGH ALREADY!?!?

One of those mornings when calling/texting/reaching out to anyone, anywhere, seems pointless because you know they know… but, still, they

Just. Don’t. Know.

No one does.

So instead of laying in bed thinking about the million different ways you could’ve done things better, if not completely right, you roll out of bed, shed a tear or two under a scalding, hot shower till your skin begs you to move, put a decent pair of jeans on (because you know if you put the sweats on, you’ll end up back in bed), tie your hair up in the most ratchet hair bun and FORCE YOURSELF TO WEAR THE PINK LIPSTICK…

because, dammit, today you’re gonna pretend to feel pretty no matter how ugly you feel inside.

Ever had one of those kinda mornings??? I feel ya, sister. And to you I say: know you are loved, thought of, prayed for and needed just as you are. So give that version of the world, the one that’s trying to convince you that the ugly stuff is all you’ll ever be, the finger.

Not sure it’ll be your finest WWJD moment but it does help… oh and don’t forget the pink lipstick!

#ratchetbun #paleskin #pinklipstick #thinkingprettythoughts

pinklipstick