It's Thursday?!

Holy potatoes. Do you ever feel like you're only either getting into or out of bed? Days just fly by. I guess scarce daylight is a contributing factor as well as being busy. Good thing too. Idle hands do the devil's work, ya know. How else do you think I got knocked up?

Speaking of, some people have no filter. They just say whatever is on their mind. As a customer service representative we have to swallow a certain amount of bullshit and keep smiling. Riding sidecar has not only lowered my bullshit tolerance but it has also increased the amount of bullshit people feed me. For some reason every pregnant woman needs to hear the 95 theses of proper child bearing and rearing. Good thing I have Pete to take it out on, otherwise paying customers might suffer.

I once had a woman notice my baby bump and said,
"Oh my! Are you pregnant?"
I replied, "I am!" with my trademark big smile.
She continued on to ask, "Are congratulations in order?"
"...well... yeah? I mean, I'm thrilled about it."
Perfectly matter-of-factly she narrowed her eyes a bit and asked, "So, then, you're not worried about over population?"

Welp. I guess not.

Seriously. Who are these people? Say that behind my back to your friend as you're leaving. Don't say it to my face.

(The following is a non sequitur but we'll pretend it's a segue [I had no idea segue was spelled like that until writing this entry. Now I know!] in regards to calling people on their shit.)

Before the days of babies and swollen ankles were the days of PBFs. Pretend Boyfriends. We all had several. Well, Bailey and I each had at least a half dozen and the rest of the girls maybe had one. If you have been a Colter fan for awhile you hopefully had the pleasure of getting to know Bailey. If you got to know her you can imagine that her PBFs all had highlighted hair, tanning punch cards and bedazzled back pockets on their jeans. Give her a dude in a too tight Ed Hardy shirt and she could hardly focus on pulling shots. She would check her face in the silver tamper on the machine, tousle her hair and scrunch her boobies up toward her chin

These PBFs gave us something to look forward to and usually due to our grace and tenacity, or lack thereof, something to laugh about later. I got the biggest red faced laugh of all one day last fall.

First of all, you have to hear about The Original. The Original was the first ever PBF, the reason this whole legacy came about. He is tall, kind, and curly haired. My home run of characteristics. I could never keep myself together when he came in. I muttered, dropped cups, talked too fast, laughed thickly. I was a typical 12 year old girl at an n'Sync concert circa their 2001 PoPOdyssey tour.

We all know about my imagination by this point so I hope you can please connect the following dots. Him saying hello and asking how I was on a given day turned into him being such a caring PBF and being truly concerned with my well being when I later recounted interactions back to Brenda. He once floated by my house in fishing boat and hollered at the shore that my wave runner was floating away. Swoon. Of course, according to my accounts, The Original was not conducting a guided fly fishing tour on the Flathead River, he came to see me. And then saved my life and property from dire peril! By this measure we hung out all the time and he was a hero all the time.

By happenstance we once were invited to the same wedding. One day when we were hanging out [read-he came in to get a vanilla latte] I asked him if he was going. He gave a wishy washy maybe response to. I told him what color my dress was so he could coordinate. Magenta. By this point any semblance of shame or dignity I had was reserved for other PBFs who didn't turn me into a pile of trendy clothes and goo over by the bulk coffee. He chuckled and said he would keep that in mind and carried on.

He left me at the altar. Well, he left me a few rows behind the altar on the bride's side. When, upon our next date and his next vanilla latte, I asked where the camel and pink pinstripe button up was to my magenta halter jersey knit dress. He told me he had something else going on. It was over. I knew it, he knew it. I would always love him but it was time.

I sadly recounted my tale to Brenda. How lovely it was when he came to my house, the musical montage of the progression of our relationship. Daisy chains and all that mushy gushy romcom shit. I may have been talking a little loud behind the counter I suppose but I was distraught!


The Original came in the next day.

"Hey, Jesse. I have a bone to pick with you."
"Me?!" I flushed red and clutched my hands over my sternum to brace myself for the blow.
"Yeah, you think you can just break up with me?!"
Ohmygawd. What. Shit. What?
"Heh. Hah. Um."
"I really thought we had something and then I have a friend tell me that you told Brenda we were through before you even told me!"

I swear this really happened. He later explained that a friend approached him and asked how she never knew that he was dating the blond Colter girl. I told Brenda a convincing enough story that this eavesdropping girl actually thought I was dating The Original and that he had bailed on a wedding we were supposed to go to together after saving my life from the river monster. Thankfully The Original had a sense of humor and recognized my eccentricities.

I talk too much. And too loud. You would think I would have learned my lesson after we had an employee meeting regarding a story I told the Head Cheese about a night in Mexico and a back alley high speed chase in Volkswagen and our savior in spandex on roller skates.

I should try to remember that I work in public and that there is no soundproof barrier between the pastry case and my mouth.

And, I know I'm a creepy dork.

I hope you all go in tomorrow (Friday) to take in Glitter and Lights theme day! Should be a trip!

I need some coffee.