A Discussion Over Dinner

"Hi honey.  How was your day?"

"Oh man.  It was brutal."

"Really?  I'm so sorry to hear that.  Tell me all about it."

"Well, it started off okay, until I was notified that someone was trying to take over part of my account."

"Oh no!"

"Yeah.  The guy tried to recruit some of my guys and was trying to buy them for loads of money. It was so stressful, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to reconcile my account and resolve this mess!"

"What did you do?"

"I spent the money to get them back.  It was an expensive move, but well worth it.  Except he came after me again!  Dude. This guy was trying to wipe me out! I ended up talking to someone about it and they contacted the Admin for my group; he got back to me pretty quickly and we went over the details of what had been going down.  He told me that what the guy was doing was illegal and made him apologize; basically banned him from having anymore contact with me. " 

"Wow!  Good for you honey!  Sounds like you were able to resolve things!"

"It was so intense babe.  I kept getting updates the rest of the day from other people who had experienced similiar issues with guys like this and they gave me some pretty great ideas on how to better protect my allies and my Kingdom in the future.

"Well, that's terrific.  Ha! You just said Kingdom on accident.  You must be working too hard."

"No, I meant to say it.  Why, what did you think I was talking about?"

"Um, work?"

"Work?  No. Work was fine."

"Well then what the hell have you been talking about this entire time?"

"My game. On my iphone. You know, Kingdoms at War."


I can't wait for date night.

Not Guilty

 

Recently I had the opportunity to accompany a friend to a warm and fuzzy little place called the Santa Ana Courthouse.  She needed to straighten out a traffic violation and always hungry for blog material being the good friend that I am, I offered to come along for moral support.

Upon entering the facilities, which are, um, spacious and decorated in what I would refer to as DMV Chic, I began removing any metal I was wearing and noticed a bunch of folks taking off their belts.  Wanting to warm up the crowd a bit, I jumped in with “I hope everyone wore pants that fit today!” and waited for the round of chuckles my cheesy jokes usually garner.

Nada.

The officers were not amused and, judging by the signs they flashed, neither were our local gangbangers (who, by the way, did not wear pants that fit, thankyouverymuch).

Just as I was about to retrieve my duffle bag purse from the conveyor belt, one of the policemen guarding the x-ray machine stopped me and pulled me aside. 

“Ma’am?  What is your business today at the court?”

“I’m here to support this woman, who was pulled over by one of your fine-weathered friends for driving like a jackass.”

My girlfriend shot me a dirty look; I shot one back at her that said “he’s got a gun and a very official looking moustache, so shut it.”

“Ma’am, I cannot allow you to proceed past this point until you give me permission to throw this away.”

And that’s when he pulled out, and held up for all of the criminals of Orange County to see, a four-pronged, silver-handled, dinner fork.

Yep.  I had a dinner fork in my purse.

Someone snickered.

I felt equal parts mortified and…….nope……mortified just about sums it up.

I told him he could toss it and tried not to let him see the pained expression on my face.  It was a good fork.

Once we got passed the check-in, we headed towards the courtroom designated on my friend’s paperwork and it was harder than you might think to distinguish the lawyers from the defendants; you can take the crackhead out of wherever a crackhead would hang out and put him in a cheap, oversized suit with a matching polyester tie and pleather shoes, and he’ll look just like the lawyers.  Luckily the handcuffs help; also, lawyers tend to have less facial piercings and usually don’t sport forehead tattoos, but really, that’s where the differences end.

Mostly though, I was surprised to find that the court has such a family-friendly atmosphere!  There were children everywhere: climbing the benches, eating Cheetos off the floor, coughing NOT into the inside of their elbows.  I was especially moved by a family who stood behind us in line; the father was dressed to the nines in a t-shirt that must have been a gift when he renewed his Hustler subscription, the silhouette of a woman in a compromising position splayed across his back.  His wife/girlfriend/baby mama/call-girl was equally classy in her cleavage baring top and low rise jeans, her penciled in eyebrows positioned in an arch that clearly said “Gurl, you best not be staring at my penciled in eyebrows,” her ruby red platforms the perfect contrast for her black ankle monitor.  Their daughter was adorable and the way she pronouced the word $@#% with a little lisp just melted my heart.

Suffice it to say, I was a tad disappointed when it was my girlfriend’s turn to go before the judge and she got her ticket thrown out without my help; I didn’t even get to shout “You can’t handle the truth!”

With any luck, someone close to me will break the law soon because I can’t wait to go back.

Someone over there owes me a fork.