You know…it’s just this….

First off, I need to preface this entry:

I am NOT a heartless person.

*phew* ok.

A nice, stressfree lunch is exactly what I needed today. After a somewhat frenzied evening of boozing it up at Camus, the uber-hipster bar at The Clarendon Hotel, where oddly enough I started channeling my “inner-Cher” and loudly proclaimed to all patrons in attendance, “I’m a lesbian exposed to nuclear waster – hoaaaaaa”, Sweet tomatoes was just the answer to soothe the savage beast named “Mother Humping Hangover”. (could that have possibly been the LONGEST sentence ever on Metroblogging???)

After creating my Masterpiece Du Jour, complete with grape tomatoes AND mashed eggs, I sat down to start enjoying solid food. My lunch companion (and fellow Hangover Mary) Chris and I were quietly chit chatting about the previous evening. You know, just two Urban Cats, sporting impressively oversized Jackie O-influenced sunglasses and snarkily commenting on the seasonal Chicken Pot Pie and Buttermilk biscuit entree.
All of a sudden, appearing out of nowhere, a well-dressed woman approached our Booth/Sobering Nook.

“Excuse me. You two gentlemen look normal.” *insert snicker here* My car just ran out of gas and I am SO embarrassed I have no cash on me. I NEVER do this, but…do you think you can spare a couple of dollars. Just two. That’s it. I’m so sorry. Augh….this NEVER happens to me – but well, you know…when it rains it pours, I suppose.”

Trying to peer over the tops of my Jackie O’s,(these bad boys are HUGE I’m tellin’ ya), I replied, “Sure. Things like this happen.” I dug into my pocket, shakily (I was still a tad hungover) handing over two George’s. “Spend it all in one place now ya hear!” I added cheerfully reassuring myself that I had, in fact, done the right thing.
Off Gas Lady went, happily clutching her two bills. I had made her day. My heart filled with warm thoughts (or the vodka was finally reaching it – not sure which).

Finishing up our lunch, Chris and I emerged into the warm Arizona sun. Much like in the opening sequence of the Mary Tyler Moore show, I felt like tossing my hat in the air as if to exclaim, “That’s right World! I can take this hangover with a smile and make my day seem worthwhile!”

Suddenly, I turned in the direction of the car and saw…her. Handing cash over to, what appeared to be, her Pimp Daddy. With a wad of cash in his hand, he ordered, “Now, go try over to AJ’s. See what you can get there.”

What was this? A Sting Operation????

I was astonished. Vilified. Peeee-issed!

How DARE she give me this Cock and Bull story about running out of gas! How DARE she play on my sympathy nerve. How DARE she hit me up while I was still oozey. The nerve.

And then..oh yes..the Frosting on the Cake of the Operation – the car: Yeah…a 1990s Black BMW – that was idling WITH the A/C on! Now that’s just a kick in the head. AND it had just been recently purchased – the temporary license was in the back window.

I stood there. Disbelief on my countenance. Thankfully, Chris brought me back into reality.

“Darin. Get in the car. We’ll put The Cowsills CD on and sing “Love, American Style” and everything will be ok.”
I did get in the car and yes, we did place The Cowsills in the CD slot, and yes, we did sing. However, as we drove away, I gave Miss Money Bilker a little Love, American Style of my own.

I flipped her the bird.

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