Scene: Two nights ago. I am jonesin' for ice cream.
Me: (sitting in a ridiculously long line at Sheridan's Frozen Custard talking to myself) Holy crap...How long can it take to give someone their ice cream!
(line creeps forward three inches)
Me: (smacking the stirring wheel over and over) HURRY UP!
Lady five cars in front of me at the drive- up speaker: Um, I want three large cookie dough concretes...no wait, just two cookie dough concretes. And...hold on. WHAT ABBY? WHAT DO YOU WANT? (pause) Okay, and one small vanilla custard with chocolate sprinkles, but not too many chocolate sprinkles. (pause) Okay, and, change the two cookie dough concretes to one cookie dough and one Oreo, but I don't want a ton of Oreo's in it. And then...yes, Abby I know...a large chocolate shake with two straws. Do you take checks?
(Rapidly dialing Hubs' number)
Hubs: Hi babe.
Me: Hubs! This is crazy. The line to Sheridan's is like, 8 cars long! I want ICE CREAM!
Hubs: (sighs) They have the walk-up counter. Is it busy?
Me: (shrugs) No.
Hubs: So go up there and order your ice cream.
Me: (softly) I can't.
Hubs: Why not?
Me: It's too far. I don't want to.
Hubs: Oh for heavens sake. If you don't want to wait than you're going to have to.
Me: (picking at my jeans) Yeah, but I can't even if I wanted to.
Me: Just cuz.
Me: Because I'm not wearing a bra. I left the house quickly and didn't think I'd need to be out of the car.
Hubs: So? We live in Wyandotte...you'll fit right in.
Me: (pondering) That's true.
Hubs: So....what are you going to do?
Me: I'll just wait, I guess. It gives me a reason to bitch.