HGN with PIC

PIC and I have girl nights, dubbed HGN.  Do you know why? If not, here’s the cliff note version.  PIC’s phone auto-corrected “Hurray Girls Night” into “Horny Girls Night”; thus our outings are now dubbed HGN, which is WAY cooler than GNO (Girl’s Night Out).

Epic as always, here are the events of our HGN Saturday….and something from Sunday.

Adventures in Dog Grooming

PIC has two big dogs.  These two big dogs are usually very well behaved.  Usually, they listen.  Usually, being the operative word.  We planned on having a ten minute visit to the groomer.  That did not happen.  I’ll keep this short… but the cone of shame, big dogs and first day on the job groomers do not mix well.   It was traumatic for all of us – dogs and people.

Psychic …Psycho… Dining

PIC and I had some much needed wine, then went to our favorite restaurant for dinner.  Here, the adventure ensued.

It started the moment we sat down beside two eccentric ladies.  The music was a little too loud for PIC and I to converse, so we resorted to texting because… that’s how we roll.

PIC: These women next to us are talking about what their psychic said they did in a former life….  The hell?

Me: The hell?? Did they say **insert name of small town I grew up in**? Since when did that place get a psychic? And they must be friends of my boss since she gets that done at work all the time.

PIC and I listen in and learn one of the ladies was told she was a blacksmith in a past life.  I don’t know about you, but really? Couldn’t that psychic have come up with something more fun? How about…Dragon Slayer.

After we stopped listening to them, we began to notice a plethora of plaid to our other side.  A throng of men were gathered, all wearing stinky, wadded up plaid and/or flannel.   PIC and I exchanged looks and began texting again.

PIC:  But I pulled my best flannel out of the clothes pile and it smelled ok…

To this, I begin laughing.  That high pitched laugh where I begin to wheeze and cry.  This makes PIC begin to giggle.  Now we are both wheezing. And then we full stop.

PIC text: He just called him Mr. Clean…really?!

The irony was not lost on us.  He was balding, not bald, but badamn if he was anything clean.  He was the smelliest one of all.  We are almost falling out of our chairs laughing and the waiter comes over.

Waiter: Can I damage you any further tonight?

PIC and I exchange glances and say no.  He leaves and we both give a WTF look. Damage us? We decide its time to exit stage right or else be cut into tiny pieces and served to the flannel Mr. Clean.  I’ve never seen two girls scurry so quickly.

No Shoes No Shirt But We Still Get Service (Kinda)...Wa!

At the next bar, you’ll have to understand what I was wearing to appreciate it all.  I had on a very low cut silk shirt that shows off (in a classy way) my attributes. This is usually my “prompt service”, “free drinks” and/or “no cover charge” shirt.  Tonight?  Not the case.  We couldn’t get a bartender’s attention for a drink to save our lives! As PIC and I are attempting service, my shirt gains the attention of a young man.

Perhaps it was the wine from the first bar.  Perhaps it’s because after a long week at work, I just don’t even attempt to be subtle.  But the first thing out of my mouth?

Me: What happened to your face?

PIC looked at me and gave me the same eyebrow raise she did the night I exclaimed “starving children from China”.

In my defense, the boy had one eyebrow. He had some sort of bandage thing over his missing brow and on his chin.

To his credit, he didn’t miss a beat.

Eyebrow Boy: Car accident.  But I’m still cute aren’t I?

Me: *give him my own PIC eyebrow raise*

Apparently, I was distracted at this point.  Here is what PIC endured from Eyebrow Boy.

EB: pokes PIC’s arm repeatedly – Does your friend have a boyfriend?

PIC: eyebrow raise

EB: Do you have a pen?

PIC: Do I LOOK like her receptionist?!

**two minutes pass**

EB: They are so pretty…. are they real?

PIC: *PIC shoots him a look with wide eyes and an eyebrow raise that says ‘Boy you best be speaking about her eyes or I’m going to smack you.’*

EB: Her eyes are so green! Are they real?

PIC: *relived eyebrow raise* No. She got ’em on Ebay.

EB: Do you have a pen?

PIC: If you want her number, grow a pair and ask her.

EB: *nods like he’s been given the key that unlocks the secrets of the world*

Side note: Eyebrow boy did give me his number.  Then he fled the scene like he was on fire.  Bless.

You Did What?

PIC and I migrate to the next bar, hoping that we will have better luck.  We hit the restroom and here’s what we hear.

Girl 1: I rub it in my hair.  Is that gross?

Girl 2: No! Not at all!

Girl 1: haha I just wondered if it was weird.

Girl 2: Nope! You look fabulous.

PIC: The hell is she rubbing in her hair???

Me: I have no idea??

PIC: What kind of friend lets her girl rub things in her hair that could potentially be considered gross and/or weird?

Me: A bad friend – not a PIC.

The rest of the night included men who wore fedoras;  me blurting out the word CHUNG (I tend to read random labels out loud when I am tipsy) in the middle of the grocery store – and PIC subsequently falling over laughing at me because it made absolutely no sense to her why I exclaimed CHUNG.

The next morning PIC and I went to visit my mom. The trip was lovely, but we made a very important discovery.

Squirrel Butts

After lunch, PIC and I were in the glider watching the wild life around Mom’s house.

PIC: Tree rats

Me: Where?

PIC: OH MY GOD.  That is the FATTEST squirrel I have ever seen!

PIC and I do the RCA dog look, heads cocked sideways.  We see the squirrel do an amazing hold and twist on a bird feeder to grab his grub.

Then we both say: THAT SQUIRREL HAS AN ASS!

Me: Like. He has literal BUTT CHEEKS.

PIC: I have never seen such! It has an ass! It’s so fat it has an actual ass.  With cheeks.

Me: My mom overfeeds everything, even the squirrels.

PIC: Now I feel bad because my squirrels don’t have asses.  I clearly don’t feed them enough.

PIC and I watched not just the one squirrel with ass; but all the squirrels with protruding, baby-got-back style booty. I wished desperately that I’d had a camera…. And I really want to pit the booty squirrels against the gangster squirrels that infest my office.  I think the booty squirrels would win.  They would probably sit on the gangsters and smother them.  What do you think?

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I hope you all had a great weekend.  Cheers and happy hump day! :0)