The Lap Top Explodith!

Last weekend a cup of lemonade took out my laptop. I was very upset by this. Just ask my husband, who had the unfortunate pleasure of being there when it happened. Him saying, "C'mon, it's not a big deal" was enough to show him just how big of a deal it really was.

I suffered the heartache of losing my trusty laptop but the possibility of losing it's hard drive kept me from getting a good night's sleep. Finally, after agonizing over it and purchasing a new laptop, I am happy to report my old hard drive was a-ok. Whew! You have no idea the magnitude of shit fit I would have thrown had my hard drive been ruined as well. Let this be a lesson in backing up!!

I like my new laptop but y'know, it's just not my old one. It's bigger and faster but I miss the old one. It was my first laptop, given to me by my husband. I wasn't done with it yet. But life goes on...

Speaking of shit fits, we go to this restaurant named Gingham's a lot. Last weekend we went there for breakfast and as usual I had to poop right in the middle of my meal. So I go to the bathroom...wait, there's something you need to know about the women's potty in Gingham's. Whoever constructed it was a master of space usage. There are two stalls and a sink. There is just enough room in each stall to barely pull one's pants down. If I am alone, I pull down my pants and back in. I have to back in because there is just enough space between the toilet and the door for my knees. If I were any taller I'd have to wad up a handful of toilet paper before closing the door.

So I do my duty and I get up. I bang my head against the door when I bend over to buckle my belt. It hurt. So I go out to look in the mirror to see if a lump is forming.

This old woman comes in and goes to the stall.
"Oh, my. Well, someone thinks they are too good to flush the toilet."
Oh. My. God.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I forgot to do it." I cry. I go in and flush. Now, mind you, there was poo in there but it was on the light side, especially for me. There wasn't enough poop in there to be in a Will Farrell movie, you know? But I felt bad, so after flushing I apologize again.

This old bitch looks at me like I've just eaten baby-brains and I have a trail of gray matter down my chin. She actually cringes! She has to get past me to get in the stall, and she does so like touching me will give her the plague. She shuffles into the stall and then slams the door.

Now I didn't have to claim that, and I certainly didn't have to take care of it, and there was no obligation to apologize for it. I felt I'd sufficiently embarrassed myself. Her reaction was totally uncalled for, so when I left I shouted, "Jesus, lady, it's just a piece of shit. Get over it."