I know there are strange people everywhere. Every city and state has it’s share of fruitcakes.
Here in Kentucky, we call them rednecks and they’re an abundant breed.
Case in point:
Saturday I head to the local Vietnamese nail salon to get my toes did. I sat down all prepared for a nice, quiet, relaxing pedicure knowing full well that I didn’t have to talk to anyone ’cause the only Vietnamese I can speak is ”bạn đãng trí hơn địa ngục”…which isn’t appropriate for a southern lady to use during a pedicure.
While I’m sitting there soaking my paws, in comes “Myrtle” and “Bertha”, Satan’s wife and spawn, who proceed to sit beside me and start yapping at the a loud roar.
I shut my eyes trying to connect with that quiet place you find in the fetal position. I even try to suck my thumb to conjure some peace…but it ain’t happening cause Myrtle and Bertha want to talk to the nail dude, who they’ve now given the American name, “Stone Cold Steve Austin”, about nude beaches in Florida.
No shitzs, so now I have to go there in my mind…oh, gawd…somebody pour acid on my brain.
Holy Ritz Cracker.
Bertha then proceeds to tell her mother about Playalinda beach in Florida…where you can strip down out of your flannel “God Bless Dale Jr #8″ pajama bottoms and run nekkid around the beach and let your “ta-ta’s flop in the wind.”
She even warned Momma to take her heart medicine “cause there was youngin’s and old one’s and all kinds she had never see before, even black ones. I bet we could even take Stone Cold Steve Austin there with us and he could show us his wiener.”
Poor old Stone Cold Vietnamese Nail Dude,he was clutching his Buddha necklace so tight it was digging into his neck, cutting off his oxygen and he was turning blue. I thought I was gonna have to do CPR.
I think he regretted the day he moved here.
