Hi Everyone,
I could post a variation of this blog every few months for the next 26.83 years and still have material left over. This is what I mean.
Okay so I am having lunch. Things are good until a female (sic) who I will call, An Enquirer, sits diagonally across from me. Great times two. I thought. Food, always my best friend, is all I look at as she speaks to me. “I can’t hear you. It’s really loud in here,” I said. Her overwhelming concern for a mutual friend, who I will call State Farm because not only is he a good neighbour, (we live on the same floor,) he also used to live in my apartment, is overplayed.
“He did what?” I ask. As An Enquirer repeats herself I know what she is saying is physically impossible for anyone to survive without first being admitted to a medical hospital and then followed by an extended stay in a mental hospital. State Farm looks good and I am rather certain that I have heard him enter and exit his apartment. The next day I see a friend, tell them what happened and ask, “Just how many times have you seen An Enquirer eat here?” They say, “Once if ever.” “I’ve seen her eat here twice. The first time was about a month and a half ago and the other was yesterday. Whatever she thinks she is up to, I don’t like it,” I reply.
A couple of days later I see my neighbour so I tell him. Over a week later I am sitting with a friend having lunch and State Farm joins us. He says that he spoke to An Enquirer and how parts of her story changed. “I don’t think she’ll bother you again though,” he says to me. Unsure, I look away from him. Females are a breed of their own and that’s not a compliment. State Farm leaves when he is finished lunch. A few minutes later just as he is ready to rejoin my friend and me, someone I’ve never seen before says, “Come sit with me State Farm!” “I was already sitting here,” he tells her. My friend and I smile at each other and he suggests that State Farm sit with the New One. “Seriously, go sit with her. The last thing I need is for another female to hate me,” I say.
Both men look at me. “What?” I ask. “You don’t get it. Females can be real bitchie!” Since they look unconvinced I share an experience with them. “…. and I guess because he didn’t pick her, she decided to take it out on me. Because it’s my fault that he didn’t like her …. So you see why I don’t want any more BS in my life? Like An Enquirer saying things, sitting with me. And now the New One upset because you didn’t sit with her.”
So was the above, This Again? No. Thankfully I haven’t seen An Enquirer since that day and the New One keeps to herself. I guess everyone, including me, knows their place. And everyone has moved on—graciously. Too bad few people do.
Thank you for reading, A. Rebel’s Rant! ;D
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