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Why is your 'boyfriend' so surprised?
The players:
The heroes:
Mater: Boffo's Mom, dressed in her gardening clothes.
3AW: Angry African-American Woman, a vision in dark olive green (No, I didn't file her in the wrong category, read on)
The villains:
WTB: White Trash Bitch, dressed as a typical WTB: Low-rider gauchos giving us a look at her red thong, black bra clearly visible beneath her tissue-paper-thin, white, spaghetti-strap top.
"BF": Boyfriend, in quotes, dressed in parenthesis.
The bystanders:
Boffo(me), A few mature adults, and several children of varying ages
The setting: A Local Supermarket, Sunday Afternoon
(this particular market has 2 self-check lanes)
Boffo and Mater are in line behind 3AW at the self-check lane, Boffo holds a bag of canine cuisine, Mater holds a chocolate chocolate-chip pudding cake intended for a church picnic this evening. "BF" ad libs ringing his order (scans paper towels, chocolate syrup & condoms, holds up bananas for cashier approval, etc. [wonder what he has planned this evening]).
As "BF" wraps ringing his order, WTB appears near the line which is protruding nearly into the frozen food section, spots "BF", waves.
"BF", genuinely surprised to see her, speaks: WTB! (I'm sure he actually called her by name, but I can't be bothered to remember such trivialities) You're buying diapers!?
(She is indeed, along with 1 or 2 other items which may be baby-related)
WTB speaks: Yeah, I'm in a townhouse now. (I fail to see the connection--diapers > townhouse
it's like mustard > football 
... anyway)
"BF" speaks: Oh, that's nice. (Tries to wrap conversation.)
WTB slides in front of the line and waits to use "BF"'s terminal, assuming the rest of us in line only speak Russian, or are deaf as a post.
Mater: Excuse me, we were all here first.
3AW: Yeah, you gotta wait in line.
(You will note that the heroes are smart enough to say their lines without the express written instruction to speak)
WTB speaks, trying to sound sweet and innocent: Oh, but you see my "boyfriend" has to get to...
Mater
: You have to wait in line. You think we don't have any place to be?
WTB
speaks (dropping the nice'n'sweet act): Well you don't have to be such a fucking sm*rt bitch about it!
(I thought of repremanding her for using such vulgar and abusive language at my dear silver-haired mother, but "BF" looked like he could take me, should he decide to take WTB's side in all this)
3AW: And you need to learn not to mess with a f*cking convict! I'll f*ck you up.
So, we get to the front of the line, and there's "BF" helping her ring her order the next lane over!
For those who weren't paying attention, here's a revew:
1) He clearly did not expect to see her.
2) He's most likely not her "baby daddy" if that's the correct slang.
3) He didn't know that she had moved into a townhouse.
All of this fairly screams: He's not your boyfriend, you lying, scamming, WTB! What did you do to get him to play along? Did you offer to blow him in the parking lot?
The bad news: She's already procreated, and her offspring is most likely also a card-carrying member of the FFOA (Future Felons Of America).
The good news: He did buy condoms. Hopefully he knows how to use them.
A new acronym: IDIOT
Is
Definitely
Incapable
Of
Thought
The heroes:
Mater: Boffo's Mom, dressed in her gardening clothes.
3AW: Angry African-American Woman, a vision in dark olive green (No, I didn't file her in the wrong category, read on)
The villains:
WTB: White Trash Bitch, dressed as a typical WTB: Low-rider gauchos giving us a look at her red thong, black bra clearly visible beneath her tissue-paper-thin, white, spaghetti-strap top.
"BF": Boyfriend, in quotes, dressed in parenthesis.
The bystanders:
Boffo(me), A few mature adults, and several children of varying ages
The setting: A Local Supermarket, Sunday Afternoon
(this particular market has 2 self-check lanes)
Boffo and Mater are in line behind 3AW at the self-check lane, Boffo holds a bag of canine cuisine, Mater holds a chocolate chocolate-chip pudding cake intended for a church picnic this evening. "BF" ad libs ringing his order (scans paper towels, chocolate syrup & condoms, holds up bananas for cashier approval, etc. [wonder what he has planned this evening]).
As "BF" wraps ringing his order, WTB appears near the line which is protruding nearly into the frozen food section, spots "BF", waves.
"BF", genuinely surprised to see her, speaks: WTB! (I'm sure he actually called her by name, but I can't be bothered to remember such trivialities) You're buying diapers!?
(She is indeed, along with 1 or 2 other items which may be baby-related)
WTB speaks: Yeah, I'm in a townhouse now. (I fail to see the connection--diapers > townhouse
it's like mustard > football ... anyway)"BF" speaks: Oh, that's nice. (Tries to wrap conversation.)
WTB slides in front of the line and waits to use "BF"'s terminal, assuming the rest of us in line only speak Russian, or are deaf as a post.
Mater: Excuse me, we were all here first.
3AW: Yeah, you gotta wait in line.
(You will note that the heroes are smart enough to say their lines without the express written instruction to speak)
WTB speaks, trying to sound sweet and innocent: Oh, but you see my "boyfriend" has to get to...
Mater
: You have to wait in line. You think we don't have any place to be?WTB
speaks (dropping the nice'n'sweet act): Well you don't have to be such a fucking sm*rt bitch about it!(I thought of repremanding her for using such vulgar and abusive language at my dear silver-haired mother, but "BF" looked like he could take me, should he decide to take WTB's side in all this)
3AW: And you need to learn not to mess with a f*cking convict! I'll f*ck you up.
So, we get to the front of the line, and there's "BF" helping her ring her order the next lane over!
For those who weren't paying attention, here's a revew:
1) He clearly did not expect to see her.
2) He's most likely not her "baby daddy" if that's the correct slang.
3) He didn't know that she had moved into a townhouse.
All of this fairly screams: He's not your boyfriend, you lying, scamming, WTB! What did you do to get him to play along? Did you offer to blow him in the parking lot?
The bad news: She's already procreated, and her offspring is most likely also a card-carrying member of the FFOA (Future Felons Of America).
The good news: He did buy condoms. Hopefully he knows how to use them.
A new acronym: IDIOT
Is
Definitely
Incapable
Of
Thought
)
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