This post will come down in history as the one I will be the least proud of.
If you are sensitive-ish, skirmish, prudish or just plain sick of people telling you way too much about themselves, do not read on.
Understanding full well that this is, without a doubt T-too M-much I-information to share with you lovely readers, I am going ahead with it because I just HAVE to.
Last week, I celebrated my birthday near the coast with my wonderful husband. We returned from our long weekend and Mr. B went back to work the following day. That following day was my actual birthday.
I rested all morning then decided to do something fun with just me, myself and I. Being that I am
cheaper older now and always hungry, I grabbed my laptop and searched for, Restaurant freebies on your birthday. Because food.
To my delight, the list was extensive. I narrowed it down to establishments in my town and saw the perfect place to get a free lunch. I rushed over to my printer and printed the flashy freebie coupon. I then remembered that I would need a dessert after lunch, so I looked up free desserts and printed that coupon as well. All planets were aligned, the cows hadn’t come home yet and I was salivating.
I arrived at the Mexican food establishment and ordered my FREE BURRITO (well, you had to order a drink in order to get the burrito, but still.) There I sat by myself, feeling very content and proud that I had thought of this idea. I took the obligatory pictures of my food to send to people via phone and bit into my scrumptious hearty burrito. MMMMMmmmmm it was muy bueno. Lot’s of guac and even free chips.
As I was happily munching away, my son called to wish me a happy birthday. After learning that I was all alone eating a free burrito, he got concerned and told me that this was a rather, sad situation. I told him that although it appeared to be a sad scenario, I was happy and having fun.
I finished every single free bite of my burrito and got ready to head to the next restaurant to cash in on my free dessert. As I stood up to walk to my car…I felt somewhat of a rumbling coming from the direction of my very satisfied tummy. Gggggrrrrroooooowwwwwwwllllllll! RrrrrrgggggrrrrrrrRRRRR! GGGrrrrrbbbbsssssggggggfffffff! Brrrrggggggggttttttttmmmmmmfffffffrrrrrr!
Hmm, that’s odd, thought I.
I stepped on that gas pedal and sped out of the parking lot like there was no mañana. I took a sharp right and into the Target parking lot. Thank God for my handicap placard because I found the closest parking spot possible. I got out of the car and literally sprinted (a no-no when you are handicapped) to the Target restroom and man did I let them cows come home.
Jesús, María y José.
In the name of The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit,
Never, in my life…
God bless the woman in the next stall.
God bless all the women that came in after me.
God bless all women in the world.
I guess you really do get what you pay for.
*Needless to say, I did not cash in on my free birthday ice cream sundae.