People Watching

nuns    

     One thing I absolutely love to do is people watch.  I’ve always told my husband that he could just park me on a street corner in the heart of New York City, and I’d be happy as can be for days on end. So when my friends took me out over the weekend to a local bar in my home town, it was THE prime environment for doing just what I love doing.  And the crowd there certainly didn’t disappoint.  There was a smorgasbord of characters on display, let me just tell ya, but the ones who caught my attention the most were the DDD’s, the Dirty Old Bar Fly, and the Drunken Bathroom Lush.

     As my friends and I sat at a corner booth in the front, we couldn’t help but be drawn to the fact that every other girl that walked by seemed to have an unbelievably large rack.  It was as if some plastic surgeon in town had offered a two for one discount or something. I was totally and completely lost in a sea of DDD’s.  One of the blonde ones happened to know my guy friends and came over to say hello. This chick’s DDD’s practically gave me a high five as she approached our table.  I have no clue what the girl’s face even looked like because all I could think about was trying to see if I could balance my glass on those puppies.  After a short conversation about absolutely nothing, blonde DDD went back to join the rest of the boob brigade.

     Then there was the man in his late fifties who was trying WAY too incredibly hard to impress all the DDD’s.  I decided to call him Dirty Old Bar Fly after learning that he was pretty much a staple at every bar in town on the weekends.  He was going with a whole Miami Vice theme, wearing a pink scoop neck t-shirt underneath a blazer, which only made him look even more pathetic.  He also knew my friends and came over to our booth as he was attempting to work the room.  I was immediately drawn to two things as he swaggered our way.  First, his hair was styled in a ridiculously obvious comb-over that looked like he had a dead rat curled up on his head. Second, the fly on his slightly too-tight dress pants was completely wide open.  These two facts sent me into a full-blown giggling fit, and I tried to bury my head in my friend’s shoulder so as to try to camouflage my laughter.  My girlfriend decided she was gonna just march right over and let old boy in on the joke.  We watched in hysterics as she whispered in his ear that he might wanna check himself cause “some air was coming in down below.”  He promptly closed the barn door and strutted his stuff on over to another section of the bar to hit on more of the DDD’s.

     Finally, there was Drunken Bathroom Lush.  You know someone’s three sheets to the wind when she starts telling you how pathetic she is for coming to the bar all by herself.  She was swaying at the mirror trying to primp in the ladies’ room when I went into a stall to pee.  Apparently, she got out her powder compact from her purse and was trying like hell to get my friend to let her put makeup on her. My friend must’ve told her no four times before Lush finally got the hint, but she fumbled in the process and dropped her compact under my stall.  Next thing I knew, this hot mess had crawled on the floor into MY stall to pick up her damn powder while I stood there in amazement in a squat position. I gave her a look of death that said, There’s a reason why I locked the door, bitch!”  She gave me a glossed-over glance of only minor acknowledgement as she crawled back out again.  We later saw her stumble past our table and leave with some other poor drunken sap.  It would be nothing short of a miracle if either one of them remained awake long enough to even get to first base.

     I could’ve sat in that booth all night long sipping blueberry martinis and watching the freak show play out before me.  The DDD’s, the Dirty Old Bar Fly and the Drunken Bathroom Lush absolutely helped me to forget about all of my problems for a few hours.  It was definitely live entertainment at its very best cause there’s nothing quite like a parade of crazies to liven up a Saturday night.

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5 Responses

  1. LOL “boob brigade” I am usually part of that group sadly…but I am not proud of it and mine are real. If I could afford to ditch them I would in a heartbeat. I hope all those girls with the ginormic fake boobs enjoy the back pain in their futures.

  2. I must get my hands on a blueberry martini!

  3. Ok….I HAVE to stop reading your blog now as I’m both in tears and threatening to pee my pants…..

    AND my housework isn’t getting done because I’m reading, laughing and walking around cross-legged.

    Thank you. Spank you. LOL

    • You are so very welcome! If I can make someone pee their pants, I consider that a good day (unless it’s my own children cause then I’d have another mess to clean up, wouldn’t I?) 🙂

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