Running Out Of Gas With No Bra On Is The Suck. (1700 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 0.45 on 27 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Ferretnose (View user info) at 2004-12-13 18:46:28 EST
I bring my kid to school every morning, in my piece of shit, bright yellow Ford Tempo. It has a tree frog license plate frame and steering wheel cover. Even though it is the tackiest vehicle in town, it always gets me from A to B without incident... but not one day last week, through my own fault. Sounds mundane, but read on.
I dropped him off at school at about 7:20, and was pulling back onto the main road, when I happened to glance down and see that the car was almost on empty. Oh, shit. I can't believe I forgot to gas up the car yesterday. I should have just gone back to the school, and tried calling my dad, even though he'd lecture me for being such a dumbass. But you see, I had almost no sleep the night before. That always happens when my hubby is on the night shift in New Orleans- I get the creeps and can't sleep. But it had been worse than usual.
Therefore, in my stupor, I had left the house without a proper supportive undergarment. I never leave the house without a bra on, I don't give a shit if it was burning down. I was wearing pajama pants, and one of hubby's old, big, stained work t-shirts. Uncombed hair in a lopsided ponytail. Teeth as yet unbrushed. And to complete my ensemble, flip-flops. It's what all the savvy white trash is wearing this season. The only way it would have been more complete was if I had a black eye and a cig hanging from my lip. There was no way I was going into my kid's school office in such a state of dishabille. So on I drove, thinking that there was probably just enough gas to get me home.
A little over a half mile away from my house, the car begins to poop out, so I direct it into a parking space beside BeBe's Boutique. This is downtown, which is nothing but banks, gift shops and antique stores. I walk up to The First National Bank, and begin to knock on the glass doors. Dammit! Right inside is Darlene Lumpkin, my arch enemy from high school, who thinks she is the shit because she's a bank teller. She used to spread rumors about me, about half of which were totally untrue.
"I need to use the phone!" I yelled. She ignored me. "Please let me use your phone, my car broke down!" She shook her peroxide blonde head and yelled in her annoyingly nasal Mississippi accent, "We don't open till nine! Sorry!" "Look, I know you're not open yet, I need to use the phone! I have an account here, for shit's sake!!!" The bitch just wandered off. "Damn it!" I knew she was just itching to tell all her snotty soccer mom friends that she saw me looking like a crack ho.
Nothing was open. I decided I was going to walk home, so I got a crappy flannel shirt from my backseat and proceeded to hoof it. I should have just waited in my car until something opened, but that would be an hour and a half from then. I could make it to my house in a few minutes. Mistake. The world can be a very scary place, when you're braless. Can I get an Amen from my sistahs? Anyway.
I'm walking along in resignation, thinking that things couldn't be worse, when Materhead Penton comes shuffling out from the alley between two gift shops. Materhead (short for tomatohead) has been kicked out of every store and restaurant in town. He has a wooden leg that is haphazardly tied on with hay-baling twine. Nobody knows where he lives when he's not in jail for exposing himself to old ladies or sniffing little girls' bicycle seats.
His M.O. is to fall down, making his wooden leg come undone, and then he'll beg some softhearted female employee to help him tie it on again. When she bends down to help, he cops a feel or makes obscene tongue gestures. I had to kick him out once when I was bartending. "Whatchoo doin' baby?" he asks with a leer. "Get the fuck away from me, Materhead. I don't feel like putting up with your shit today." "You uppity bitch ! You oughtta sue the city for building your ass so close to the sidewalk! You look like shit today, go put you some makeup on!" he hollered, fiddling with his wooden leg. Arrrgh! I hate that fucking joke. I walked on, face all red.
Now I am walking through a neighborhood. Usually it just looks seedy, but that day, it looked like the seventh layer of hell. That's how things look when you have no bra on. But I digress. The denizens of the area are watching in evil amusement from their broken down porches. On the other side of the overpass is my safe, sane, pretty little house. I can make it, I can make it. The flip-flops were killing me. I've got my arms crossed over my jubblies, and my head down. I look back, and sure enough, there is Materhead- a ways behind me, luckily. I'm not going much faster than he is with these damn flip-flops, trying to avoid broken glass and shit, and he is really truckin' it.
If this scene could be played out in sounds, it would sound like "Slide, grunt, clop... Flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop! Slide, grunt, clop.... Flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop!" Where's a policeman when you need him? I start going as fast as I am able, trotting like a victim of Chinese foot-binding, and having no equilibrium because my arms are tightly crossed. Any second now, the flip-flops are going to explode. She can't take much more o' this, captain! She's about ta blow!
A beat up brown minivan pulls up in front of me. I breathe a sigh of relief. The driver is Otis, another colorful local character, who is the maintenance man at the car wash, and a freelance yardman. He's very eccentric, but quite harmless. "Do you want a ride to your house, Nette'?" (My name is Antoinette) "Oh, hell yes, Otis. You see Materhead back there? He's following me." "Yep. I seen him. You'll have to ride in the back with my tools, but it's just a short ride. Get in, hon." So I get in.
The back seats are missing, so I am sitting on a sack of fertilizer. There's a canvas bag full of yard tools, a chainsaw, and various other crap in there. Otis says, "Oh, this is my partner Emile." I look up, and see a toothless, half-retarded looking old man grinning and goggling around at me from the passenger seat. "Hi. Goodtameetcha" I mumbled. The van stops at an intersection, and there is a beat of silence. Then Otis' grubby looking passenger says, in a muffled Cajun accent, "I likes wimmens." "I... I beg your pardon?" I stammered. "I says, I likes wimmens." "Emile, you just hush up now. She don't want to hear none of that." says Otis. Emile was not to be deterred. "All wimmens be good, it don't matta if dey be hooked on da crack, if dey homeless, whaddeva. I likes wimmens, ain't nobody oughtta dump em' offen da street! You come to da fishin' camp with us, right, chere' ?" "Shut up, Emile! I done told you to shut up, we takin' her home, and that's it!" yelled Otis.
My Gawd, I thought. So it's actually come to this: An inbred old Cajun man thinks I'm a homeless streetwalker on drugs, and I've been verbally PWNED by the Town Pervert.
Finally, Otis pulls up in front of my house. I'm struggling to get the back doors open, but they're stuck. Emile gets out and opens the doors for me. He reeks of fish guts and whiskey. "Why you in such a hurry, chere'?" I jump out, thank Otis, and run into my house. Where I lock the door, throw my flops in the trash, and get a bra on quicker than Jack Shit.
Regards,
Ferretnose
User Reviews
Submitted by Cryslynn1 (user info) at 2005-11-14 13:53:02 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Put gas in your fucking car...........dumbass.
Submitted by xenon (user info) at 2004-12-14 14:36:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
mediocre
right down the middle with a 0
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-12-14 14:25:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
well although the post was flowing i can appreciate the story behind it.
I don't see why people had to be asses about it.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2004-12-14 09:15:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That's some funny shit. I sure hope your day gets better from there.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2004-12-14 08:36:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Heh.
Submitted by Renata (user info) at 2004-12-13 23:19:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by MoonStone (user info) at 2004-12-13 23:14:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
not great but not bad either, so an ok average +0
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2004-12-13 23:10:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Fartman (user info) at 2004-12-13 22:50:31 (#)
Ranking: 1
Where in the hell do you live, Dogpatch?
Might as well be Dogpatch. It's a small town in South MS about an hour from New Orleans. So, we have a good mixture of coonasses and rednecks, plus others that have moved here to work at the Stennis Space Center or Lockheed Martin. It's not that bad, it's rather picturesque.
F.
Submitted by Quasiplasmohedron (user info) at 2004-12-13 22:58:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Amusing, but overly long and much too sloppy.
Submitted by Fartman (user info) at 2004-12-13 22:50:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Where in the hell do you live, Dogpatch?
Submitted by precision (user info) at 2004-12-13 22:33:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't see what all the -2's are about, it was entertaining, not exactly Shakespeare, but hey, still good though.
Submitted by Totally_useless (user info) at 2004-12-13 21:52:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was a good post.
I don't even have jubblies, but I could sense the urgency of your unsupported funbags.
Hadooken's back in the states? Someone call the Census Bureau and tell them to add one more closet queer to the list...
Heeeeeeyyyyyy, blond boy!!!!!!
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 20:04:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
yes ladyplural i am back. i been gone for a few months, the whole deal of moving halfway accross the world and getting settled in back in the states. thanks for the warm reception.
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 20:03:54 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
yes, those malicious slams i hit you with have made my day. with that out of the way i can finally kick my feet up, crack a beer, and perhaps watch monday night football.
as far as the post being good? hardly. you went out looking like shit and it backfired. terrific. one time i went outside in nothing but my robe and slippers to get the mail. door locked behind me. i felt like an ass. i guess that would make a good post by your standards. i guess its not a big deal because nobody around here has standards anyhow.
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:39:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:26:16 (#)
Ranking: 0
you realize the post was clumsy yet you try and defend it. obviously you are the dolt. try again fucktard, i'm too good at this.
I admitted it was clumsy to the posters who said they had a hard time getting through it, not that it was a bad post. It was a good post. Furthermore, I was defending myself against your uncalled for insult. Now that you've called me a fucktard, and asked if I am skanky, I hope you feel like a fulfilled person. It takes a lot more than that to hurt my feelings or intimidate me.
F.
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:33:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I dont think this deserves the negative ratings it is getting. it doesnt flow and its not gut wrenching funny but i like the way it reminds guys that women can see a world differently because of circumstance.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:32:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Hadooken! Since when have you been back?
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:26:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
you realize the post was clumsy yet you try and defend it. obviously you are the dolt. try again fucktard, i'm too good at this.
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:15:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:08:14 (#)
Ranking: -2
"She used to spread rumors about me, about half of which were totally untrue."
so the other half were totally true? so does that mean you're only a half-skank?
_______
No, that was called a self-depracating joke, also an exaggeration, intended to be amusing. So sorry you found it to be only a means to try and insult me, which didn't work. I'm not the least bit skanky. The whole irony, you dolt, was wrapped up in this fact.
For everyone else, I do realize now that this post was rather clumsy. Oh well! Can't win em' all.
Ferretnose
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:08:14 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
"She used to spread rumors about me, about half of which were totally untrue."
so the other half were totally true? so does that mean you're only a half-skank?
Submitted by goleafsgo (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:06:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
i'm struggling with this story...i don't know why...
Submitted by Takabrash (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:05:06 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Wow.. worst story ever...
Submitted by Saxon (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:03:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I was going to say something cute and witty but im giggling like a school girl with her first bra.
Good Story BTW.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2004-12-13 19:02:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I struggled through this...
I don't know why, it wasn't all bad, but I just couldn't get through it fast.
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2004-12-13 18:58:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
this needed a pic.
Submitted by SPECIALk (user info) at 2004-12-13 18:56:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-12-13 18:53:13 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
... die.