Call an Exorcist!
It was my friend John's bachelor party this weekend. We did typical bachelor party stuff, you know, steak, beer, whiskey, naked girls pressing their gyrating hips in your general direction as you try to keep your eyes, mouth, and cocktail out of crab-jumping-range. In any event, we finally found ourselves sobering up at a 24 hour greasy spoon called the Mountaineer Family Restaurant. While we were enjoying our burnt eggs and cold coffee, a thickly accented and somewhat twangy voice called out, "I just ate a whole pack of Rolaids, you think I'm gonna be okay?"
We, of course, ignored the voice. Certainly the strange, slightly hypochondriacal question was not be directed at us. Again, "Hey! I said I just ate a whole pack of Rolaids, you think I'm gonna be okay?" We turn slowly and see, at the next table, a HUGE blonde, quite intoxicated, staring right at us with a quizzical look on her face. "Uhm," says my friend, "I think you'll probably be fine."
"You sure," she says, "I ate a whole roll, like, twelve or somethin'."
"Yes, you may be a little dehydrated, though. I'd drink plenty of water. Maybe even some Gatorade."
"Are you a doctor?" She asked.
"No!" I suddenly chirp up, "But he did stay in a Holiday Inn Express last night!" I'm always eager to use that joke. Everyone started laughing but her.
"Oh," She says, "So where are you from?"
"Oh, I'm from in town." my friend says.
She turned to me suddenly, "Why the fuck did you lie to me, you asshole?"
"I didn't lie. It was a joke."
"Well I didn't think is was very fucking funny, lying to me like that. You see that guy over there?" she asked, "He was making fun of me when I first walked in. He said that he would whip out his dick and show it to me, but that he couldn't take me home because his car said "fat hos don't go" so I said to him that I didn't think that I was fat but even if I was, baby fat is where it's at. And he couldn't handle a night with me. One night with Mama would kill him. He'd wake up in the morning and say, 'what the hell happened last night' and I'd say 'you were with Mama, bitch!' That's what I'd say." Then, as if nothing worse could happen, she turned to the "bitch" in question and said, while gesturing at us, "hey, asshole, you can say all you want now, my friends are here and they'll kick your fucking ass out in the parking lot, so you just talk all you want, my body guards will take care of you!"
"Fuck" I said. "We're all going to die."
Then, she says, "Well, I gotta go home to my boyfriend. God I hate that son of a bitch. We've been together eight years, he's the father of my children, and if we were married I'd have to divorce him cause I hate him."
"But you still live with him," I said.
"Yeah," she said, "Gotta have somebody to watch the kids while I'm out drinking. Well, I gotta get home to my kids."
"It's probably almost their bedtime, isn't it?" I asked, dripping sarcasm.
"What time is it?"
"Yeah, it's almost their bedtime."
"How old are they?"
"One's Six months and one's two years old."
"Give them a kiss goodnight for me," I said.
Yes, she really did talk like that. And yes, I love my town.