So. I was in Chicago and after a full days work, I was ready to drive to my next destination. Unfortunately I would never make it because, although I'm an exceptional genius when it comes to travel and logistics, somehow I justified going to Chicago in January and a blizzard was grounding me at the airport Hilton. Good news is I did learn from my experience. I made the same travel schedule for next year.
So. I'm at the hotel and realize that I'm stuck. There will be no white castle, no portillos, no Chicago hot dogs. I'd have to put my mission to develop the baddest badonkadonk on hold. I'll have to eat in the hotel. I look at the room service menu and it sucks so I walk down to the restaurant and wait at the hostess station to be seated. The restaurant seating is vacant and there is no hostess to be found. Could it get even worse ?! I look around the corner to the hotel bar, where they also serve food. It's packed, with men.
Normally this would not be a problem, but rather a delight. But I have a staunch rule. I do not ever ever ever drink or go to bars while traveling. Alcohol, and unfamiliar people and places are dangerous to a vulnerable woman. Anyway, so look at that. You really can have two personalities. Work me, and play me. Not literally PLAY ME though I do feel like its written on my forehead sometimes.
So. I nervously choose the safest place to sit. One stool between a guy with his head in his iPad, and the other who was extremely fat and loud mouthed. As soon as I sat down the fat dude steered his conversation to me. First asking me questions to feign interest, then revealing he was a TEAMSTER and so what else could I do but swap BROWN stories with him. It actually was a very entertaining convo even after he gave me his card, told me to "look up the lies they tell about him" on google, and invited me to call him saying "it never hurts to know a TEAMSTER" in case you have to dispose of a dead body. I giggled, haha what a bullshitter. The fat TEAMSTER leaves, my food and 3 rd drink arrive, and I turn towards my plate. I realize at that point iPad guy is looking at me. I look back and smile, and he says in a perfect English accent, Babs why were you talking to that guy, he was such a freak?! I laughed and said ... Because he was entertaining. He asked me if he gave me his number and I said yes. We both laughed, a lot, and I said lets look him up on your iPad and see if he was lying. Mr Accent looks it up and BAM the guy is on Internet with all sorts of indictments and accusations against him. This guy was the real deal. This would only happen to me. I texted my friend and told her about the teamster. She got all excited, and asked if I got his phone number. Can you imagine what a perfect boyfriend he would be? He was rich, he was a criminal, and he was willing to hide bodies for me. She said it not me. At that point I was able to confirm that my friend really was twisted and deranged. Those are the makings of a perfect friend. :)
Honestly i did think of the benefits of such a boyfriend, but frankly I would rather not rot in jail, or HELL for that matter, before I'd accept a big fat guy for a love interest, never mind the fact that someday he could decide to hide MY DEAD BODY !
COMING SOON an even better part two to this story. Same night, more insanity story.
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