PIC Night

I love my PIC.  She gets me on a level I can’t even explain.  Last night we had another awesome girl’s night.  Here are the highlights.

Act 1: Svetlana Returns

On the way to the mall to pick up a few beauty necessities, PIC asked me a question.

PIC: Honey.  I didn’t understand your text earlier.  You said “Is free. We can sing it loud.”

Me: No I didn’t. That doesn’t make any sense.

PIC: Yeah.  Svetlana?

Me: Oh hell honey.  Here.  Look at my texts to you and see what happened. (I was driving.)

PIC: Really??? That was a broken middle sentence of one text that I didn’t get. Svetlana, you bitch, don’t be jealous.  Only one of us can be the bestie.  We can replace you.  And don’t forget that you cut me off mid sentence yesterday during a phone call.  I’ve got my eye on you….

Me: No one believes me when I say Svetlana is out to get me.

PIC: I do Wheat Mush.  I do.

See. That’s why I love my PIC!

Act 2: The Traumatic Bathroom

PIC and I trudged through a monsoon rain storm to the local mall. But, we had to use the restroom first. We are greeted by the crypt keeper janitor who says  in a creepy skeevy voice, “You need to go in? She’s clean and ready”.  Really? No. We just loiter outside of bathrooms and hope odd men will interact with us…..thankyouverymuch.

PIC and I give a quick nod to the man and run into the bathroom.  Here’s what happened:

PIC: OH MY GOD. WHAT is that smell?

Me: scrunching up nose Oh. God. Help. Me. I have no idea. Something died in here. It’s foul……ungodly foul.

PIC: Oh hell honey. Let’s get this over with. Hold your nose.

PIC and I head towards a stall and hear a loud beeping noise.

Me: What was that?

PIC: I have no idea. But, I’m pretty sure it’s the signal that this god forsaken bathroom has been scheduled for demolition. We should hurry.  It smells worse in here than that gross place we went last month where everyone had their hands down their pants.

Me: Ohmygod! Stop it! My quads hurt from the gym!!! I can’t laugh and balance.

PIC: What are you doing in there dear?

Me: Um…Nothing?

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Me: Yeah. We have to hurry. If this place goes down, I don’t want to be found in the rubble. Not a good last place to be seen.

We quickly head to the sinks.

PIC and I: OH GOD.

Me: Please tell me those are cookie crumbs mushed up because of the water.

PIC: Sweetie. It’s vomit.

Me: IN THE MALL?!! Who vomits…in the sink… in the mall!?!  He said it was clean!

BEEP BEEP BEEP

PIC and I exchange the “let’s get the hell out of here” glance, hold our breath, wash in a sink NOT covered in vomit, then flee.  The crypt keeper janitor was no where to be seen.  However, his cart was parked ominously in the exit, almost blocking PIC and I in for life.

Act 3: The Beauty Supply Store

This store is a new addition to our area and is quite fantastic.  PIC and I are perusing, I’m spraying perfume, trying on makeup…. then we head to check out.  The lady at the counter is skeletal.  Note that I have gone through this myself, and can have what I deem flashbacks when I see skeletal people prior to eating. Bear with me. I promise it’s funny.

PIC, my ever by my side bestie, sees my panic face.

PIC: I want to hold her down and feed her a biscuit.

Me: She wouldn’t eat it.

PIC: Well, I’ll make her. Her arms look like angel hair pasta. That’s not healthy!

Me: I know…

PIC: Men love curves, not bones.

Me: I suppose….You know that girl I work with? She’s even worse.

PIC: Which one.

Me: The crackhaired one.

PIC: What?

Me: Ah crap. I meant the cracked out one…. Hmmm. Wonder what crack hair would look like?

PIC: White and flaky.

Me: Like that biscuit we were going to feed that girl?

PIC: No, it’s more rocky than that.

Me: So kinda like white dreadlocks then.

PIC: Yeah.  I think so.  But itchy ones.

Note: Another reason I love PIC? She says this stuff with a straight face, never missing a beat.

Act 4: The End

This was all inside jokes, so I am pretty sure it would only entertain PIC and I.  At the restaurant, we did call many people crackhaired, we watched a couple so drunk they couldn’t even take a photo of themselves, and we determined that I was GOING to get an education in the movies and music of the 80s because it is sad that I don’t get her quotes.  Really y’all.  I haven’t seen Fast Times at Ridgemont High.  I think that’s sad.

Act 5: Lola

As I drove PIC home, I realized that the drive was not interrupted by Lost. Satellite. Reception.

Me: OMG! I think Lola’s dead!

PIC: OH GOD! Lola OD’ed!!

Me: She hasn’t been speaking in days. I just realized that!

PIC: Rest in peace Lola.

Truth.  Lola isn’t speaking anymore. I’m pretty sure she is in the GPS heaven in the sky.  I really hope they don’t serve alcohol up there….she’s got a propensity to drink heavily and act out.  No one wants that.  It’s sad.  Really sad.

Thus concludes my latest PIC night. Here’s to Svetlana being put in her place, Lola’s death, crack haired people and the crypt keeper janitor.

The End.

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4 Comments

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