The Life of a Compulsive Liar
Brian and I had lunch today at a snooty little hotspot in WeHo. I got the number while Brian parked. Either the wait was shorter than expected, or Brian took a really long time getting there, because after a bit, they asked me if my entire party was here. I said yes, but the host kind of looked at me standing there by myself and then went down the list and gave my table to someone else. A few minutes later, they asked me again if my entire party was here. I said, no, but I just wanted to have coffee while I wait. They went ahead and called a different person’s name. A few minutes later, they asked me again if my entire party was there. I mean, seriously…my entire party is TWO people. You can freakin’ seat me as if you were seating for one. So I went up to the host and told him, “LISTEN. My party will be here in a few minutes but I really need to sit and have some coffee and have some ME time before I’m ready to deal with my partner, okay??” And they promptly sat me.
What the f–Partner??? In a fit of irritation, I managed to spontaneously become a whole imaginary character whose back story was that she was this chick in a bad mood because her lesbian lover was going through another craving of drama and she just needed some quiet time before she dealt with the crazy bitch. And somehow, I had spontaneously calculated that a PMSing (possibly violent) lesbian act would get me a table.
I’m a little afraid of myself right now.
(must use powers for good…)