You Got A Friend In Me

I recently went out, and ran into an old friend of mine from years ago. We were chatting it up like Gladys and Maude at Shady Acres, except instead of Alzheimers, we had a raging case of Vodkawaters. We ladies needed to go the the bathroom, so naturally we held hands and skipped merrily over to the lavatory, probably bumping and stepping on several innocent bystanders in the process, and being blissfully unaware. 

In the bathroom, (gentlemen readers, read on at your own risk) my friend needed a little more time than usual, and it being a busy night at a happenin place, there were several other ladies waiting to use the porcelain pot behind us. Bitches be crazy, and soon they began pounding on the door, yelling such terrible things as, "Hurry the F*** up!" or "I'm about to p*** myself! What the F*** are you doing in there?"

Well naturally, my comrade was embarrassed, to say the least, and getting increasingly more so with each profane thing being yelled at us through the locked door.

I took one look at her nervous little face and decided that I would take the heat for our extended stay in the pooper.

With a nod of my head, and a look of pure determination, I unlocked the door to face our fate...

"Phewwww! Momma had some bad burritos earlier today!" I shouted into a sea of angry lady scowls, and rubbed my stomach convincingly. 

"Ewww...why is she telling us that?" One lady in a particularly short skirt (floozy) yelled to her friend.

Unwilling to break character, I carried on mumbling the phrase "bad burritos" and massaging my gut until we were away from anyone in the line. I don't know if my friend appreciated the act, or if she even remembers it at all. But know this, if I could do it all over again, I would.