Geriatric Hookers...

This is a pair of tree across the street from the ambulance statio I went to yesterday morning. I'm amazed the pictures turne dout as well as they did since my camera doesn't like working in cold weather and it was negative five degrees there.

Mouse came over to spend the night last night. She and I went out to have a lovely girls night out dinner at the local Applebees nearby. We got seated in the bar area and put in our drink order. I got a Mojito and she got a beer. Well, our kinda clueless, raspy voice waitress brought them out (forgetting my water). I couldn't taste any alcohol in the drink, if there as any, and the mint used in it was muddled to the point of getting chunks of it in my mouth every slurp of the straw. Kinda icky. We ordered appitizers and food and waited.

I heard the table directly behind me getting seated. It was kinda loud in the section we were in, but not THAT loud, and their conversation was about four levels too high for anyone around them to have a coherent thought. Then it hit me. The smell. The smell of a geriatric hooker, I imagined. I casually looked over my shoulder to see that not a single woman at the table was under that of the age of 60, and I think, judging from the wafting cloud of stank- that they had all dipped their finest evening clothes (high end old biddy coture) in what ever god aweful Mary Kay perfume they could find! The smells of Eau de Olde Broade was about nauseating and I honestly could not smell my luscious chicken wonton appetizer on the plate in front of me!

At some point, my nose got used to the smell and we carried on with eating. Mouse's steak came out, literally smoking on the grill plate. And it was burnt. She siad it was burnt. The steak itself, looked good, once I got past the momentary ick of a medium rare steak, but the poor fried redskin taters, didn't fair so well. They were definetly a shake past charred. As we were nearing the end of our meal, the table directly behind Mouse was seated- Stanky Mc Smoke and her mother Grundle the Unwashed. Talk about stink. I was begging for another cloud of geriatric hooker smell to cover that of which they just trailed in. I thought Mouse was going to puke a little in her mouth. While Mouse filled out the slip for dinner, I slurped back the remaining portion of my Mojito, only to have a sickening THWACK hit my hangy-ball in the back of my throat.

Mouse giggled (I must have made a face) and asked what was wrong. I coughed a little bit and winced- "I think I have a mint leaf wrapped around my uuuvvvvuuullaa..." I coughed again to losen it enough to just swallow the blasted thing, erupting into laughter with Mouse. We laughed ourselves out the door and across the frigid parking lot. Nothing says fun after a bad dinner then a uvula joke, right?


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