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So, last Saturday, I was teetering on the edge of having to crawl back to my parents in Plano, or possibly, just possibly, have a room to move into at a friend's apartment, and said friend invited me out to Rocky Horror. Hurrah, it was a great show. Even if I did spend most of the night warning that it could very well be the last show I attend.
Anyway, after the show, myself, my friend, and five others pile into two cars, and go riding around, eventually ending up at an IHOP. Let me repeat, seven of us, and I think only one or two of us actually have any money. And, of course, I'm getting looks, cause I was in a short-ish skirt and false boobs.
Anyway, we get seated, and order the most meager food I think I've seen in a sit down restaurant of this sort.
And, about half of us are 'singing' songs at about three times our indoor voice. The other half are laughing at the first half. And I'm sitting off to one side, trying to cover my face. And kinda glaring at anyone who stares at me.
And then, we get food, those of us who ordered any, and one of us drops his tub of butter into his Dr Pepper (intentionally, and taken out of the tub) and then pours raspberry syrup on top. And I try not to heave on my poor little three scoops of ice cream. And someone else dares me to make a Dr Pepper float, and I do, cause it seems innocuous enough. And that guy then pours some whipped cream into his drink, imitating my float, and our waitress is standing at the door, just kind of staring, and offers to get the guy a real soda with whip cream, and comes back with a drink with a mound of white, and a cherry on top.
Guy #1 (butter in his drink) dares guy #2 to deepthroat the mound of whip cream. I swear. And guy #2 does... but can't take it all. So, waitress goes off and replaces Guy #1's drink with a similar concoction, and says he can only have it if he can deepthroat it. Guy #2 tries gamely, and gets cream all over his face. My friend, for some reason, gets roped into licking the cream off his face. By that point, I'm sure my face is red enough to burn a hole through paper.
And the night just gets weirder and weirder, as I bring up America's Next Top Model's premiere, and Isis being their first transgender contestant, and guy #3, whom I hate with an undying passion, due to his comment about a transvestite he gets at work the first time we met, starts saying, "Well, technically, he's a guy, cause he was born with a dick."
And I go ballistic, and turn on him, cause he's sitting right next to me, and explain how, if She wants to be called female, then female she is.
Guy 3 struggles to respond, and goes right back to his, born with a dick theory, and I get more angry, and ask him if he's ever transitioned.
'No, of course not.'
"Well, then, you have no possible say in what SHE is labeled, and, if you're wise, you'll shut your mouth before I hit you with my purse."
Friend #2 interjects, and takes Guy 3 off to one side to explain transgenderism and body dismorphic disorder to him, huzzah.
So, yeah, group of 7, hardly buy anything, and are perverted and dirty the half an hour we spent in the dining room. My bill was just shy of two dollars, so I tipped our waitress a dollar, and apologized for them.
Anyway, after the show, myself, my friend, and five others pile into two cars, and go riding around, eventually ending up at an IHOP. Let me repeat, seven of us, and I think only one or two of us actually have any money. And, of course, I'm getting looks, cause I was in a short-ish skirt and false boobs.
Anyway, we get seated, and order the most meager food I think I've seen in a sit down restaurant of this sort.
And, about half of us are 'singing' songs at about three times our indoor voice. The other half are laughing at the first half. And I'm sitting off to one side, trying to cover my face. And kinda glaring at anyone who stares at me.
And then, we get food, those of us who ordered any, and one of us drops his tub of butter into his Dr Pepper (intentionally, and taken out of the tub) and then pours raspberry syrup on top. And I try not to heave on my poor little three scoops of ice cream. And someone else dares me to make a Dr Pepper float, and I do, cause it seems innocuous enough. And that guy then pours some whipped cream into his drink, imitating my float, and our waitress is standing at the door, just kind of staring, and offers to get the guy a real soda with whip cream, and comes back with a drink with a mound of white, and a cherry on top.
Guy #1 (butter in his drink) dares guy #2 to deepthroat the mound of whip cream. I swear. And guy #2 does... but can't take it all. So, waitress goes off and replaces Guy #1's drink with a similar concoction, and says he can only have it if he can deepthroat it. Guy #2 tries gamely, and gets cream all over his face. My friend, for some reason, gets roped into licking the cream off his face. By that point, I'm sure my face is red enough to burn a hole through paper.
And the night just gets weirder and weirder, as I bring up America's Next Top Model's premiere, and Isis being their first transgender contestant, and guy #3, whom I hate with an undying passion, due to his comment about a transvestite he gets at work the first time we met, starts saying, "Well, technically, he's a guy, cause he was born with a dick."
And I go ballistic, and turn on him, cause he's sitting right next to me, and explain how, if She wants to be called female, then female she is.
Guy 3 struggles to respond, and goes right back to his, born with a dick theory, and I get more angry, and ask him if he's ever transitioned.
'No, of course not.'
"Well, then, you have no possible say in what SHE is labeled, and, if you're wise, you'll shut your mouth before I hit you with my purse."
Friend #2 interjects, and takes Guy 3 off to one side to explain transgenderism and body dismorphic disorder to him, huzzah.
So, yeah, group of 7, hardly buy anything, and are perverted and dirty the half an hour we spent in the dining room. My bill was just shy of two dollars, so I tipped our waitress a dollar, and apologized for them.
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