The "Waitress" and the Monkey

Back in my early 20's (since I'm slowly creeping up on being considered in my late 20's) I got my first real adult job. I gave my lame, part-time mall job the two middle fingers and bounced out that bitch and moved on to a full-time, now you can go to the doctor because you can afford health insurance, teller at a bank job. Like any job, it had it's ups and downs, co-workers that made me really debate about bringing a booze filled flask to work, co-workers that turned into life long friends and then there were the customers. Most were just the run of the mill, here's my check now give me cash type customers. Others would argue with you over a transaction that was a penny over what they wrote down in their check register.

You never fully comprehend just how disgusting money is until you have a "waitress" bring in $500 in singles to deposit. And by waitress I mean stripper. I'm not saying everyone that came in that stated they were a waitress was actually a stripper. But this lady of the night...

What? I like pie!

Pretty sure some of those were in her lady business.

I also like cake.

Yeah, I'm not touching that shit.

She brought her own stripper pole...

I brought my own Hazmat suit.

Another memorable customer was this one lady and her purse. The transaction started out like any normal transaction. She wanted to cash a check or withdraw money or do something that my brain doesn't really remember. But that's mostly because, even after all these years, it's still really shocked about what was in her friggin purse.

See, everything is all normal, nothing funny going on here. Just looking at pictures of dragons on my computer while she fills out whatever the fuck she has to fill out. And then it happened. Her purse moved. And I don't mean like it shook a little or maybe a bottle of water shifted, I mean the damn thing shook like there was a living creature inside.

Those aren't stinky lines, I was trying to emphasize just how much this purse moved on it's own.

Naturally, I just assumed it was a little puppy or one of those tiny dog breeds that live in lady's purses.

After a few totally logically explanations as to why her purse would move on it's own, I went back to counting money. And then it shook all over again.

And she just went about her business like nothing was happening. Meanwhile, in my head I was screaming, "BITCH, WHAT THE HELL IS IN YOUR PURSE?"

Then this happened.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!? IT'S A HAND! IT'S A TINY BROWN HAND! WHAT THE FUCK!!!

IT'S A GOD DAMN MONKEY!

Guys, I'm not making this shit up. A friggin' monkey popped out of her purse! And then she asked if we had any dog treats to give the monkey.

Best Friends Forever!

Don't cry for me Argentina. The truth is, I never left you. I just got busy with work and volunteer stuff and crying about needing sleep. You know, the usually stuff. Anywho, I'm finally starting to get out of that horrible writers block funk!

 

So, I present to you, Best Friends Forever. 

A few weekends ago I went to lunch with a friend of mine that we'll refer to as "Scotty." Now, "Scotty" and I have been BFF's since high school (that's nearly 10 years ago...ugh. I don't wanna be old) and although we may not chat every single day, when we do manage to find time to hang out (since someone finally moved closer after having to move several states away to go to fancy lawyer school) it's like zero time has passed. Getting all the mushy feelings stuff out of the way, I figured I would share the story of the first day we met. It was my senior year (her junior) of high school and I was sitting in my drama class chatting with some friends when we all noticed this pale girl with bright red hair in the doorway. As we heard whispers between her step-dad and the teacher, we found out that she was from Scotland and this was her first day. The following pictures are a pretty accurate recreation of that day. 

We did quietly and awkwardly stare at her as she walked to the empty table in the back of the room.

And we kept staring.

Even when she finally noticed us staring, we didn't stop. 

 After a few minutes of quietly staring back at each other, the group turned back around and went about their daily business. I, with my feelings, felt bad that "Scotty" was all alone at her table so I took a seat across from her and introduced myself. That exchange went a little like this:

I had black hair and short bangs back in the day..DON'T JUDGE MY HAIR CHOICES!

At this point, I was just calmly telling her my name and ah mah gad welcome to America and stuff! How long have you lived in the land of freedom, deep fried food and the Backstreet Boys? Which would explain why I got this reaction:

There was surprise...which quickly turned into a glare

"Scotty" claims she glared at me because she was all nervous and crap about not only being in a new school with zero friends but in a totally new country as well. Plus, we had just spent about 20 minutes staring at her. I just thought she was being a bitch. Then I realized the reason she was looking at me like I was crazy was probably because while I was politely and not crazily introducing myself, she saw this: 

I tried to draw a unicorn but it just looked like an obese pony ...

See! I told you she glared at me!

This is the part where I was just confused because damnit, I was so frigging nice and crap and she was just sitting over there, glaring at my niceness. She eventually warmed up to everyone and now I proudly call "Scotty" mah BFF with the funny accent!

We're totes high fiving.