I never did get around to doing a Friday Fluff yesterday, because I was enjoying the conversation about Extreme Makeover: Six-Year-Old Edition. I was going to post when I got home, but instead I decided to go get my hair did. Not a great idea, all told, because if I’d gone today instead as planned I might not have had a hairdresser who joked about how she likes the gays, but why don’t they just cut off their pee-pees if they want to be a girl so bad? (Not to mention I might have had one who gave me the fucking color I wanted.)
After a rather trying hour listening to this woman’s opinions on gays and men (“You can’t trust men, they’ll always cheat on you, I’m getting a divorce after 15 years, are you married? You’re getting married?!? Congratulations!!!”), I was even more thrilled than I otherwise would have been to read this story (h/t Loveandlight). It’s the story of a moment of divine comeback inspiration, rendered both suspenseful and hilarious by extremely skilled writing:
Now, this woman…oy. There are thin women, and then there are Skinny Bitches, and my radar went screaming off on the latter immediately. She’s standing there in her overpriced workout clothes–you know, the kind nobody wears to actually work out in, they just wear around town to make it look like they’re oh-so-health-conscious. She has one of those stupid little pink leather purses that should have a dog in it, and an armload of magazines about pilates and yoga; her hair is that expensive streaky blonde that’s all the rage in people trying to look young and hip. She’s making fake small talk with the adorable pierced-and-tattooed boy en flambe, and taking forever to decide what she wants, talking herself into and out of a piece of cake about five times.
I’m barely paying attention, as I am scanning the menu myself (you know, making up my mind BEFORE I get there?), but she has one of those nasal voices that worms its way into your brain and makes your spine hurt, so before long I’m listening to her; I think she was trying to be flirty. Anyone with half an IQ would have known her charm was absolutely wasted on our friendly neighborhood cafe lad.
The woman is now weighing the pros and cons of having skim milk versus two percent milk in her latte, and she says, “God, I don’t know, I just feel so, like, fat today. I feel like such a big fat cow.”
Then she turns to me, and she says, GET THIS, “How do you stand it every day?”
The adorable pierced-and-tattooed boy en flambe blinks.
Several heads in the cafe pop up because nobody can believe this woman actually said this to a total stranger. I feel as if the sitcom camera is pulling in tight for a closeup on my reaction.
For the rest of the story, see Dianne’s blog — it’s a great read. And tell us your own stories of your worst insults and snappiest comebacks.