When I was in high school I owned this ugly pair of green sunglasses that I wore everyday.  I loved them so much I’d keep them on a few extra minutes after I entered a building.  Naturally, I lost them, because if I’m good at anything it’s losing shit. 

I turned my house upside down looking for those sunglasses.  I was disturbed by their disappearance, I couldn’t imagine where they had gone.  I looked everywhere, and after days of searching I was desperate if only to prove to myself I wasn’t insane.

In the mornings before school I would sit cross-legged in the doorway of my closet and put on makeup.  One morning after giving up on ever finding the glasses, I rummaged through my Caboodle makeup organizer and pulled out the green sunglasses.  I tucked them into a zippered part of my backpack immediately.

The next morning, again sitting in front of the full-length mirror on my closet door, undoubtedly applying way too much eyeliner I pulled out a pair of green framed sunglasses identical to the ones I’d lost then found.  I was stunned.  Floored, actually, but went immediately to my backpack.  I found the green sunglasses I’d found the day before exactly where I left them.  I held in my hands two pair of identical sunglasses.

I told everyone who listen at school that day, and showed them both pairs.  I was a big, fat liar as a kid (some would call me a storyteller) so I don’t think anybody believed me.  Hell, I hardly believed me.

I carried around both pair for about a year and a half.  I lost one pair and then the other, never sure which was which.

And while I was a big, fat liar as a teenager I’m an adult now–an adult with a journalism degree–I can’t just be making shit up.  If I have ever told the truth on this blog it is TODAY.  That was the single most Lynchian event of my entire life.  Those who know me know I wouldn’t say that if it was based on a lie.

Dear Middle Aged Ladies Who Dine Out,

Bitches, you are trying my patience.  Daily.  So, I thought maybe I should fill ya’ll in on some things that will make your dining experience easier for you and easier for me.  It’s win-win, so listen up.

If you are dining with six of your closest girlfriends and you would like to each pay seperately, it wouldn’t hurt to let your server know that.  It’s only polite.  Don’t wait until the check comes, when you are full of desert and ready to go, to tell your server you need seperate checks.  If you tell your server up front then she can take the proper means necessary to divide the checks in the computer for ease of payment later.  Because when you wait until meal’s end, your server is standing at a calculator trying to remember who ordered what appetizer and calculating sales tax for each individual ticket.  Had you only said so in advance, your check would be ready when you are finished.

Also, seriously ladies, don’t you have anything smaller than a twenty?  I mean, for real.  Other people seem to make an effort, but you see that your bill is $6.02 (because you had water and a soup and salad) and slap down a twenty.  If you would quit talking about the one friend who wasn’t able to make it to dinner and pay attention, you would notice servers don’t walk around with money tills.  If all 7 of you have a twenty, I’m going to be in the office for ten minutes getting change from my manager.  You always seem to do this when you are late for "Miss Saigon."

Oh, and ladies, those handbags with your initial on them: So. Over.

BFF,
Brittney