Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Cinnamon Twists (Part 2)

My response of “yea, they’re not for you” was not appreciated.  Grub Chick didn’t like my back talk.  She exclaimed, “Give me those cinnamon twists.”  So I said, “No”.  That was received by a room full of “Oooooh."  The entire waiting room started weighing in on the fight.  

This was much better than just waiting for the doctor.  There’s about to be a fight between two bitches over nothing.  What a great day!  “Ooooh that white girl she just said no, just like that, just like that”  “Girl, did you hear what she said, mmmm?”  They were like a prison gang backing up the head bitch.
I didn’t even know what that person would be called in prison or gang talk because I’m a white girl from a middle class suburban area.  I didn’t even understand why this was happening to me because I love black people and black people love me.  Seriously, black people love  me.
First off, I have a juicy booty.  So that means all black men, plus hispanics, mexicans and puerto ricans automatically love me.  Second of all, I have a filthy mouth, so that just means all men that aren’t uptight also love me.  
And then females that are black also usually love me, and I love them.  Black women are tough.  They say it like it is.  They like to have a good time.  I really just like anyone who’s cool.  So maybe that was the whole problem.  Grub Chic was acting very uncool and as a result, this horrible, horrible event was taking place.
All I know is the commentators were a mixed motley crew of scary and scarier and  my opponent was the nuttiest one of them all.  A pyscho with a loud voice who was not afraid to say what she wanted.  In another world, at another time, we would’ve been “besties,” but right now there we were in this world and the lines were drawn.  On my side of the line, there was me.  Just me.  Dressed in white pants, a banana republic black tee and strappy sandals.  On the other side of the line, there was this tall, scary, loud woman in tight jeans and a tight t-shirt with a tatoo of an anchor on one arm and muscles on both.  She was backed up by a group of individuals looking just as tough, if not tougher.  The commentators were agitating the entire situation and I needed them to go away. 
I wanted them to shut up.  Maybe this whole thing would just die down if they just shut up.  I waited to see what would happen next as I tried to keep my breakfast down.  All eyes were on Grub Chick.  It was her turn.   She looked at me and stuck with her basic demand.  “I want those cinnamon twists.”  I said, “If you want them, then get your ass in a car, and go buy them.”  I couldn’t even help myself.  Displaced anger is a real bitch.  We all know if I had brought Baklava this never would have happened.  
The receptionist behind the bullet proof glass pulled me into the next room, and I was unable to see my targets reaction, but could hear the uproar it caused.  One for whitey!  The staff knew about the cinnamon twist controversy and thanked me for them, but hadn’t touched them yet, sensing that this was not the end.  
Suddenly she charged back where I was behind the bullet proof glass and exclaimed, “I want those cinnamon twists."  I said, “You don’t give up do you?” She said, “You’re supposed to feed the poor.”  The commentators looked in,  waiting for my response.  I said, “I don’t have to do shit.”  Why couldn't she just let it go?



  1. Good Grief!!!You should have thrown twists in her face and then of course run like hell, preferably into the doctor's office where you could have picked up a syringe or tongue depressor to fight her off.
    Talk about exciting, I can't wait for the next post! I am happy you lived to see another day!

  2. OMG... following you into the office where there are sharp surgical instruments. That doesn't match with a crazed twist addict. I couldn't even guess how this will end.

  3. Okay, I know you like dogs. When you go to places like this, you get yourself a big old goofy looking pit bull with a spiked collar on him and put a leather muzzle on him too. Call him "Terminator" and make sure he's really well trained. (Mainly, they are pretty good dogs, smart, etc.) You take him with you to rough neighborhoods and tell him to sit and he sits right next to you. He has to be one of the ones with the "crazy eyes". I love me some "crazy eyes" on a pit bull. What you lack in muscles, he makes up for. I've got two of them myself because you just never know. I very seldom get in a ruckus with anyone, but when the Jehhovas Witnesses come to the door, I can have a lot of fun. Of course, the damn dog would be slobbering all over because those cinnamon twists smell so good so he would be drooling all over looking sort of rabid. No crazy bitches with tats would be messing with you then. Either that or carry a 357 Magnum loaded with hollow points. One or the other. Now I know you used cunning and charm to get out of this, but don't make us wait too long to find out that it all ended well!

  4. Hysterical that the staff was aware of the "controversy" and was afraid to eat the forbidden food!

    I hope you don't get your ass kicked in this one!

  5. @Linda's comment is just hilarious! cant believe this happening over a box of cinnamon twist and (whispering) - Its not like you are in Haiti. smh.

    Some people have serious problems....

  6. I love your stories! You have a great talent for storytelling.

  7. Omgosh! First off, lemme just say I love baklava. Little puffs of crispy pastry intertwined with honey and nuts. C'mon! What's not to love?

    But ok, I'll still love ya even tho you don't like it.

    I can't believe this, this is nuts. And you young lady! Wow, how brave (and crazy) are you?

  8. Was this a prison waiting room? A gang program waiting room? Just want kind of Dr was this? Sheesh!

  9. ...First off, I have a juicy booty. So that means all black men, plus hispanics, mexicans and puerto ricans automatically love me. Second of all, I have a filthy mouth, so that just means all men that aren’t uptight also love me...

    ...yeah you know the bruvas ❤ a juicy booty :-D

    ...We all know if I had brought Baklava this never would have happened...

    ...holy s@#t you got me crying of laughter over here (((((((:-D))))))) That's right stand your ground and don't take no crap from nobody...