Candy?
This weekend was spent in usual fashion, we packed up and went to the country to see family. Friday night, I drop off my kids at my mom's house and decided to go dinner at a local restaurant. When we arrive, I 'think' I see my grandmother's car...so I peer thru the window, and there she sits with Charlie. We are headed to the patio, but I stop off inside to say hello.
Brief hello's were exchanged, they were eating. I head out side and begin to order. Lance's brother and sister-in-law joined us. Dinner arrives, no big deal. We eat...then the conversation between lance and his brother becomes more than I can take. Every one keeps asking about all of the 'what if's' and 'what do you think is going to happen' ....ugh.
So I grab my glass of wine and go back inside to see my grandma, I figure she would be having a 'lighter' time. Immediately I am stalked by a few men in the bar. Apparently they have never seen a girl in a dress before. Or perhaps they had a bit of beer goggles and liquid courage. They all want to say hello. My grandmother introduces me as her 'daughter' -ha. This guy (clearly drunk) keeps eyeing me. (Mind you a local girl is right by his side, and if she was a dog she would have been pissing on him). Marking her territory. Newsflash - not interested. The local girl continues to try to get his attention, but he keeps giving me the 'come hither look'. SHOOT ME NOW. He shakes my hand 3 times, I purposefully give him my wedding ring hand - he ignores it. He asked me 'what's your name?' I respond - Candy.
My grandmother about spits her drink out. She continues to listen.
Drunk guy ' what do you do?' Before I could even get a word out my grandmother blurts ' she OWNS St. Louis'. I shoot her the WHAT look. Now we have peeked drunk guys interest. He is from St. Louis (of course he is). Come to find out he is from Arnold. Guess what Hoosier - that is NOT St. Louis. Drunk guy informs me that his dad is IMPORTANT, so now he really wants to know what I do. My grandmother informs him that I drive limos. I laugh. This is getting better. I turn to drunk and state - ' Yes, my name is Candy and I drive limos. Would you like my number? I give it out like candy. ' Get it.
The local girl who keeps close to the drunk guy, giggles. The drunk guy is getting tired of the game, he really wants to get close to me so he can find out what my name is and what I 'really' do.
Some other guys comments about my boots. I am wearing brown knee high boots and a dress. He asked me about my 'hooker' boots. I informed him, that I grew up in the country and these boots clearly are designed to fit in anyones *arse who deserves it. Not hooker boots. You want to find a hooker go to the east side.
Aye, I am annoyed. Mind you, I am not gods gift to men. But these men have been brought in from out of town to work on a big project. They are road hores, and they feel any one and anything is fair game. Besides they are just passing thru. So if you run into Candy at the bar her number is 800.eat.shit. good day.
Brief hello's were exchanged, they were eating. I head out side and begin to order. Lance's brother and sister-in-law joined us. Dinner arrives, no big deal. We eat...then the conversation between lance and his brother becomes more than I can take. Every one keeps asking about all of the 'what if's' and 'what do you think is going to happen' ....ugh.
So I grab my glass of wine and go back inside to see my grandma, I figure she would be having a 'lighter' time. Immediately I am stalked by a few men in the bar. Apparently they have never seen a girl in a dress before. Or perhaps they had a bit of beer goggles and liquid courage. They all want to say hello. My grandmother introduces me as her 'daughter' -ha. This guy (clearly drunk) keeps eyeing me. (Mind you a local girl is right by his side, and if she was a dog she would have been pissing on him). Marking her territory. Newsflash - not interested. The local girl continues to try to get his attention, but he keeps giving me the 'come hither look'. SHOOT ME NOW. He shakes my hand 3 times, I purposefully give him my wedding ring hand - he ignores it. He asked me 'what's your name?' I respond - Candy.
My grandmother about spits her drink out. She continues to listen.
Drunk guy ' what do you do?' Before I could even get a word out my grandmother blurts ' she OWNS St. Louis'. I shoot her the WHAT look. Now we have peeked drunk guys interest. He is from St. Louis (of course he is). Come to find out he is from Arnold. Guess what Hoosier - that is NOT St. Louis. Drunk guy informs me that his dad is IMPORTANT, so now he really wants to know what I do. My grandmother informs him that I drive limos. I laugh. This is getting better. I turn to drunk and state - ' Yes, my name is Candy and I drive limos. Would you like my number? I give it out like candy. ' Get it.
The local girl who keeps close to the drunk guy, giggles. The drunk guy is getting tired of the game, he really wants to get close to me so he can find out what my name is and what I 'really' do.
Some other guys comments about my boots. I am wearing brown knee high boots and a dress. He asked me about my 'hooker' boots. I informed him, that I grew up in the country and these boots clearly are designed to fit in anyones *arse who deserves it. Not hooker boots. You want to find a hooker go to the east side.
Aye, I am annoyed. Mind you, I am not gods gift to men. But these men have been brought in from out of town to work on a big project. They are road hores, and they feel any one and anything is fair game. Besides they are just passing thru. So if you run into Candy at the bar her number is 800.eat.shit. good day.
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