Christmas is all about GETTING. And another Nancy Story.

I touched on this subject on my other blog, but I'll just repeat myself here. People who are all about "the holidays are for giving" piss me off. If you give, someone is getting. So without getting, there'd be no giving. So get off your high horses and admit ~getting~ is freaking fantabulous.

Hrm. What is next in line of Nancy Stories?

"Talking" shit.

I was a regular at a bar called Murphy's Pub back in my college days. I knew the staff. I knew the other regulars. I was as comfortable in the pub as I was in my own living room. Which also means, I was comfortable with talking shit to anyone who happened to walk in the doors.

It all started with me having to pee. I walk in the bathroom and do my business. When I came out of the stall to wash my hands, there was a girl and a guy in there, him bent over unzipping her pants. I give the "what the fuck" look to her and she says, with a very thick east coast accent, "I can't do it myself!" holding up her very long fake nails.

Without skipping a beat, I respond with "Maybe not being able to go to the bathroom by yourself is a hint you should stay home" and I walked out without waiting for a response.

The door FLEW open behind me and in all her eastern (new york, maybe?) rage, she screams "Are you twalking shit to me?!!!"

I say, "No. I'm TALKING shit to you. I t-a-l-k shit, not t-w-a-l-k shit."

She came unglued and went after me. It unnerved me actually, as I wasn't (and still am not) a fighter, but her big hair and long fingernails dove into me. She grabbed a hold of my hair (nice) and I was against the wall. I couldn't do anything. My head hurt SO much (seriously, there is something about the hair pulling thing. That fucking hurts.) I was rendered motionless. I tried to kick her off of me, but any movement made my head hurt worse. That's when my friend Tim (yes, a guy) punched her in the back of the head which made her pull out a square inch of scalp off my head. Ah. At least I was released from her grasp.

She was immediately grabbed by a staff member and thrown out of the bar. I stood behind the staff guy who was telling her to leave and not return nodding my head in agreement. Like I was the shit or something - when in actuality, I was hiding behind the guy, afraid to get more hair pulled. I'll admit that I was the loser in whatever kind of fight it was.

As the melee calmed down, everyone was asking me if I was okay and I was nodding yes. Except my head hurt bad. Damn, being scalped fucking hurt bad. It was at this time some guy walked up to me, holding out his hand to me saying "here's your hair back" and I notice there was a gigantic hunk of hair and scalp in his hand. Ewww. "Um, thanks dude".