Karma loves thieves.
Case in point – ME.
The maxi pad stealer.
I suck at remembering to bring “feminine napkins” with me anywhere. I never have them in my purse or at work. I use one a month so I often forget to “stock up”. However, other women that I work with are pretty good at it and there’s a cabinet in our bathroom where we put such things.
Yesterday I needed one – so
naturally I stole one from the cabinet. I have no idea who the rightful owner of the pad is or was. I’d bet $50 that it was Martha Stewart from across the hall. That’d be my luck.
Because I stole the maxi pad, I of course got the outside package stuck to the sticky back part of the pad and I spent the better part of 5 minutes
swearing like a drunk sailor trying to peel the package off of the pad so it would properly stick to my underwear.
Did you say underwear? Ah yes. I wasn’t wearing what I’d call underwear yesterday. More like nothing but a string under your pants-wear. Of all the days I pick to wear
dental floss a thong.
Ever try to park an airplane in a someone’s tiny driveway? It ain’t gonna fit and there’s gonna be parts hanging over the property line.
Kinda like trying to fit a maxi pad on a string.
Pads the size of a baby diaper are just not meant to be worn with thongs.
And despite the fact that I have very little hair “down there” – I swear on all that is holy that every single hair I had somehow got stuck to my stolen “baby diaper”. Ripping that off is such a joy.
Again I say – karma loves thieves.
Wanna know what else happened at work yesterday? Don’t answer that. I’m going to tell you anyway.
There’s a guy I work with that is always full of compliments on my hair or outfits or whatever. It’s kind of a running joke that he’s the fashion police and he makes a point to come in my office and see what I’m wearing. He’s one of those men that is very good at giving compliments in comparison to most of the men I work with.
Other men here believe that saying “What did you do to your hair?” – is how you give a compliment.
Anyway, yesterday I had on mint green jeggings with a matching striped shirt and knee-high boots.
He stopped in my office and said – and I quote – “Ummmm….you’re not very sexy today.” and smiled and walked on.
Mother heifer. OhNoYouDi-int!
I wanted to scream, “Do you even own a mirror Mr. Receding Hairline?” I mean sure he was right but that is not the point. I wasn’t dressed sexy yesterday by any means. I was dressed comfortably.
It stung for a split second – probably because it was true but still. What an asswad. How dare he be so honest? And to my face of all things?? Save that shit for behind my back – DUH!
I should have said, “Dude – if you think what is on the outside is bad – you should see the monstrous maxi pad I’m squeezing between my butt cheeks to keep it in place because my thong is worthless.”
Now THAT is the definition of not sexy.
Get your definitions straight, turkeywaddle.
And yes – you’re correct if you realize I am perfectly fine with this guy as long as he is saying good things and that the minute he says something bad I want to kick him in the ballsack.
Sue me. Or get in line behind Karma.
Take your pick.