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Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

25 July 2012

The Time I Thought I Was Funny








Or I just keep the scalps of young children in the glove box of my car... that works, too.

Say what?

Okay, it happened like this:

A month-ish ago I took my two nieces to the salon to get their hair cut and styled.  They both wanted to donate their hair to Locks of Love, which I thought was a fabulous idea.  My assumption (because I'm an ass?) was that the salon would send in the hair.

The salon had a different assumption.  (Because the salon is also an ass.)

After lopping off the girl's hair, the stylist handed both pony tails to me and said, "You can find all the information about how to donate the hair on the internet.  Just go to their website and it'll tell you what to do."


Me, in my head:  "So if you know so much about it why don't YOU do it?"


Me, outloud:  "Oh!  Okay, cool!  Thanks!"


What was I thanking her for, you ask?  I have no freaking idea.  I thank people who allow me to open doors for them, for allowing me to do all the work, for appreciating the meal I just spent 8 hours preparing so they could enjoy it for 30 minutes...


No!  Thank YOU!!




I left the salon with two little girls and two pony tails, held together individually by rubber bands.

I stuck them into the glove box of my car, with every intention of shipping them off to Locks of Love, and then, as is my wont, promptly forgot about them.

Hair?  What hair?

About a week later, as Dan and I were getting ready to go somewhere, he popped open the glove box to my car and screamed like a little bitch.

"What the FUCK?" he gasped, clutching his heart and practically shitting himself.  "What the FUCK IS THAT?"


Me:  *laughing myself into a pants-wetting asthma attack*

Dan:  *hyperventilating*

Me:  "It's the girl's pony tails.  I was going to send them to Locks of Love but I forgot."






Flash forward to a month or so later, which would be yesterday...


On my way to work, I wound up having to go through a Border Patrol check point.

(I know, right?  Border Patrol:  Keeping us safe every day from Canada.)


I'm skeered, y'all.


I never know how to act with the Border Patrol, so 9 times out of 10, I wind up acting like a douche.  A douche that thinks she's really funny and that her chunky white ass won't wind up in Border Patrol jail just for pissing off the guys with the badges.

(In other words, a douche that's going to go too far one day and find out exactly how wrong she is in that assumption.)

The skinny young hot shot with the gun and the badge wearing Top Gun-style aviator shades sidled up to my scary looking cherry red HHR with the wariness of a pro who knows that fat middle-aged women driving relatively new vehicles with vanity plates are to be approached with caution.


Gangsta bitches drives this shiz, yo.


Him:  "Ma'am, please roll down all your windows."

Me:  *clicking the lock button twice, because I panic under pressure and forgot how to roll down my windows*

Me:  *feeling like an idiot*

Me:  *rolling down windows*

Him:  "Blah blah blah, United States citizen, blah blah blah."

Me:  "Are we at war with Canada?"

Him:

Me:  "You know how sneaky those Canadians can be."

Him:

Me:  "I heard they might be hiding weapons of mass destruction, eh?"

Him:  *waiting patiently for me to stop being an asshole*

Me:  "So where the hell were you guys when Justin Bieber came sneaking across the border?"

Me:  *laughing myself stupid*

Him:  "May I please see your vehicle registration and driver's license?"

Huh... that's a new one.  I wonder if I went too far?  Usually they just ignore me for a few minutes while I ramble on and then send me on my way.


I wonder if they're putting me on a list...


I reached up to the dash, popped open the glove box...

And what to my wondering eye should appear but what resembled the scalps of two little blonde girls.

Me:  *because I totally forgot they were in there*  "Oh shit!"

Him:  "What the..."

Me:  *recovering nicely and remembering a funny that one of my friends had said after I told her about Dan finding the hair and freaking out*  "Well, SNAP.  I forgot to bury those with the rest of the bodies..."

Oh, Dani... really?  REALLY?


Him:  "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to..."

Me:  "Kidding!  They're pony tails to send to Locks of Love.  I forgot they were in there."  *waving them around playfully*  "See?  No small children attached."

Him:  "Hang on a minute.  Hey, Rhodes... get over here!"

Another Border Patrolman sauntered over, muttering mysteriously on his walkie-talkie.

(I had a serious oh shit moment, y'all.  I couldn't go to jail... I wasn't dressed for it!!  Plus I had to pee.)

Patrolman Number One snatched the pony tails from my hand and stuck them in the face of Rhodes, who jumped back, yelped, and for all intents and purposes, almost shit himself.

Patrolman One laughed so hard he almost choked to death.

Rhodes?  Not so much.

They gave me back my hair and sent me on my way, no doubt writing down my license plate number and logging the incident in my Permanent Record.


SAVE YOURSELVES!