In a bed and breakfast the only meal you get is of course the breakfast. The lady who runs the joint (behind the island) would set the table each day and she would set a table for four for us and our friends. But the last day was a catastrophe. She sat the Germans with us.Let me tell you Herr Douchenozzle was the perfect Kraut. Imperious, arrogant, stiff necked and pompous Ya. After every fucking sentence he would go Ya. Ya Ya your fuckin Ass.
Any this douchenozzle had to dominate the conversation about how much money he had and all the houses he had all over the world. That's cool. It's no wonder you were staying at the Seatuck Cove House in Moriches instead of Puff Diddy's house but what the fuck? Now you know me. I can dominate most any conversation I want and tell jokes and stories and get everybody laughing. But as I got older I realized something. You can let somebody else carry the ball if it is so important to them. It's like wrestling. It's a exhibition not a competition. Now Herman Boring
was going on and on pompously telling us about where he went in the Hamptons and all the places he had been . He couldn't believe we hadn't been to Bangkok. Now he could take his cock out and bang it against the table for all I cared. But I just sat and endured it. What could you do? I was in vacation mode. Laid back. Relaxed. There's enough conflict when we get back to the store.
After they left to supposedly price houses on a private island my friend goes to me "Wow you can't even pretend." Which is not true. I can pretend but sometimes it's not worth it.
I just thought of the wisest thing President Obama ever said.
"Why can't you leave me alone so I can eat my waffle."
5 comments:
Men in lederhosen!
Who was minding the garbage disposal the whole time?
The other sister Dayrrl who has her back to you.
There were two townines working as the staff and of course we made friends with them. I don't think any of the visitors actually talk to them. They were two sisters who looked like twins but weren't of course. As we left the meeker of the two ran up and hugged the wife and thanked her.
That's reaction you get when you treat people like people. Just sayn'
Ja, we meet these types all the time. Usually they're Americans.
"Blah, We're so rich, Blah, blah". Yeah, right. So why are you *here* with us if you've got so much damn money?
But it beats the couple on the train that talked our ears off about "antique Milk bottles".
Remember those assholes in High school. Most of 'em never grew up - they just got old.
Tres gauche.
I don't get the "I'm so rich" thing. It seems...unAmerican!
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