Taylor’s Faux Pas

My beloved Taylor is having a rough month.  The cat has a wax belly and the dog peed on her Chistmas deer.

I had the pleasure of meeting up with Taylor for dinner, where she shared to stories of her week.  Enjoy.

Bad Dog!!!

If you’re single, we all have that item of clothing (or outfit) we wear for comfort and would simply die if anyone saw.  For me?  It’s a pair of blue pants I wore after back surgery.  The elastic in the waist is worn out so it gives me continual plumber crack.

Taylor hasn’t felt well lately, so she put on her comfort attire (which I will define shortly in detail).  I was envisioning her comfort attire as….well…. nothing heinous honestly.  She seems too put together to have comfort wear, but I suppose they say the same about me.

Anyway – Taylor’s comfort outfit is a salmon color tshirt that says ARUBA in nasty turquoise blue letters.  No bra.  Tucked into grey sweat pants with an elastic cuff, and big blue socks that have little balls on them.  Observe:

taylor

Now THIS is sexy….

Taylor was laying on the couch trying not to die when her doorbell rang.  Mortified that she was in her comfort wear, Taylor weekly made it to the door and squeaked “Who is it?”  Turns out it was a concerned co-worker there to bring meds and soup.  Awww.

Taylor told her to leave the materials at the door and she will get them.  No one would see Taylor in this outfit if she could help it!

A few minutes later, Taylor opens the door to get said items.  Call it slow reactions.  Call it bad dog.  Call it fate.  But something made Taylor’s dog Max make a mad dash for the outside world at this point.

Max is young and is not an outside dog, thus Taylor had to plow down the street of her neighborhood….. in her comfort-wear.  Here is how she said it went down, verbatim.

Taylor: YOU FU*&ING BASTARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BACK HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Max: yelps and runs – this is a game for him now

Taylor: SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Max: gives her a look like… um actually? Yes.

Taylor: STOP! BAD DOG!!!!!!!

Max: cuts through a neighbor’s yard and proceeds to poop on said yard

Taylor, winded from having run and scream, while sick, scooped Max up, pulled some toilet paper from her pocket (apparently she has a cold), and cleaned up best she could.  Max seemed pleased, but Taylor feels she now has to move because her street has seen her comfy wear.

God Bless Taylor.

Really?

A few days later, Taylor went back to work.   At lunch, Taylor went to the little grocery by her office where all the earth-friendly people go.  People were giving her the once over, and she thought it was because she hadn’t brought in her re-usable grocery bag.  She felt guilty, but kept perusing.  After many scowls, Taylor began scowling back.

At the check out, Taylor’s checkout guy was also giving her the eye.  Then he asked if she’d like to buy a bag. And then this happened:

Taylor: THAT’S IT!!!!!!!!!  No.  I don’t want a bag.  I’m sorry I forgot to bring my reusable bag in, but I feel like crap and I’m on cold meds.  Whatever.  Just give me my stuff.

Bagboy: Gives her the once over and says: Really?

Taylor looks down.

Taylor: Oh shit.

Then she quickly grabs her bag and runs out.

Why?  Taylor was forced to  participate in her office Ugly Sweater party.  Apparently, Taylor forgot she was wearing said hideous sweater and THAT was what folks were looking at…. not her lack of earth-friendly carry alls.

So in the course of a week, Taylor, has gone from pulled together cutie to What Not to Wear.  God BLESS Taylor.  Hope she feels better soon.

Merry Christmas-Happy Holidays! Stay out of the ugly sweaters and off the cold meds.

Me

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Taylor Had a Bad Day

Remember Taylor?  My sweet little polly-pocket of sass?    Well, she recently went all Martha Stewart on her place and bought awesome decorations, lovely smelling candles, etc.  She also has two pets: a cat named Lila and a dog named Max.  Lila is a devil in a very long fur coat.  She doesn’t mind and she doesn’t care.  Max is young and dumb.  Bless.

Today was one of those days where I’ve done nothing but meet.  I do that here.  We meet to decide when we meet next.  It’s extraordinary what people do with time on their hands…..what they deem important now vs. what they did when they were actually in jobs.  But I digress.  After my meetings I drug myself back to the desk to check my never-ending inbox.   I see this email from Taylor and almost pee my pants.

Re: Saturday plans

Okay-  let’s see how it goes…I may need to crash.  Lila got a wild hair to jump on the microwave.  When she did, her belly hair drug through the candle wax in my wax warmer.  I’m not sure how many times she did this as I was at work.  All I know is there was no more wax in the warmer and Lila’s belly is coated in candle wax.  F*%king a…because I’m going to have to shave her tomorrow…

Max is on my shit list too.  He peed on and humped my Christmas Deer and also peed on my tree skirt, so it’s just been a nightmare at the apartment.  I need a vodka or a Valium.  Maybe both.

I hope you have a good day and I will see you later.

Taylor

I’ve tried several times to reply and all I can do is sit here and laugh til tears stream down my face.  I picture Lila with a shaved belly looking pissed off.  I picture Max (a small-medium dog) thinking the Christmas Deer is now his girlfriend and being all sorts of mad when she no longer smells like him.  But most of all I picture Taylor coming back to a home she left looking like something out of a magazine shoot.  Fully believing it would be as she left it, but instead, seeing a cat with a wax belly and a Christmas Deer that wreaks of pee and Max.  I picture the look on her face.  The grasping of the pearls.  And the string of obscenities that inevitably flew from her lips, followed by a mortified look around to ensure no one heard her utter such words.

God bless Taylor.  She’s had a rough day.

 

 

Ducks & Tanning

Taylor  and I spent some time together the other day and, since she hasn’t been on the blog in a while, I thought I’d share two of the blogable stories.

Ducks

I’m allergic to feathers.  Taylor and I were discussing whether the pillows on the hotel beds were indeed feather or not.  Note: This is after a few cocktails.

Me: They feel ok.

Taylor: Lay on one and let’s see if you die.

Me: TAYLOR!

Taylor: What? I’m right here – I have your epi pen….you won’t DIE, but if you start to, I’ll be here to stab at you.

Me: Did you really just say you’d stab AT me.  STAB.  AT.  ME.

Taylor: Oh now I feel bad.  I really don’t want you to die. I’d miss you.  I was just sayin’ that I could fix you.  And then we’d know for sure if these were feather or not.  I don’t like feathers either.

Me: Uh-huh.

Taylor: Oh look! This one has a duck on it!

Me: Yeah….raising my eyebrows at her

Taylor: That must mean feathers!

Me: ….Or it’s their logo…. (hotel’s logo was indeed a duck)

Taylor: This is why I don’t drink.  It makes me stupid.

Me: And a little evil….I think you just want to stab me with an epi pen.

Taylor: giggles and hiccups

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Tanning

Taylor used to work at a tanning salon when she was in college.  Always the polly-pocket of sass, here is the story.

Taylor: Omigod.  LOOK at her.

Me: Holy hell! She looks like a prune rolled in Doritos.

Taylor: She looks like the customer from the tanning salon that peed in trashcans.

Me: Huh?

Taylor: Yeah, she was upset at me once and peed in all our trashcans.  So, I put a notice on her record so it flashed “PEES IN TRASHCANS” across the screen every time she came in.

Me: Nice…. she sounds charming!  I bet you have some great stories.

Taylor: Yeah… the worst were the old men who wanted to shock me.

Me: Like …with a taser?

Taylor: NO with their behavior!

Me: What did they say?

Taylor: This one guy came in and (in her burliest voice) Will my d*^k burn in there?

Me: huge eyes WHAT?

Taylor: Yeah. I said to him, “Has your d*^k seen the light of day?  If not, I suggest you put a sock on it.”

Me: literally fell in the floor laughing

Taylor: What? It’s true.  Skin is skin.

Me: I…can’t…breathe…

Taylor: with a sassy head nod and smile Want me to stab at you with the epi pen?

Me: hahahahhahaha Seriously….can’t…. stop…. laughing….

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