Saturday, August 22, 2009

Really Juan Stamosa? Don't Care, Don't Care

When the Mexican version of John Stamos (as Val nicknamed him) picked me up in Tucson for my girls weekend, he basically looked right thru the drunken-cougar-to-be in me and told me should that should I or any of my cougar entourage get a DUI in Oro Valley, AZ, it's s minimum of 10 days in the slammer. My mouth hung open in "Home Alone" style as I pictured me calling Dw and my already pissed off boss to tell them that by day 7 of my sentence I was head of laundry, my new girlfriend shaved my eyebrows and c ya soon mo-fo's. Needless to say, for the remainder of the weekend Juan Stamosa was our driver. He took much cougar abuse but was tipped well for putting up with our drunken debauchery

When Luiz (aka Juan Stamosa) picked me up at 6:15 am on Sun for my trip back to Dallas I was so hungover my hair hurt and I wanted badly to curl up in the fetal position in the back seat of his Bob Hope cream colored Towncar. He spoke the entire time despite me 'fake emailing' in the hope he would shut the f- up. He was exceedingly freshly scrubbed and reeked of Axe Body Spray. I have to admit I was somewhat flattered but kept thinking, "Really Juan? Have tips in 2009 gotten that scarce?"

Once I bid Juan and his haze of Axe adieu, I caught my flight and by that time was a dead ringer for Robert Smith of The Cure. One more day in Tucson I would be Heath Ledger in Batman - minus the smeared red lipstick in both cases, more of a smeared Burt's beeswax - but otherwise I looked the same. Ironically, Val emailed me later from her flight saying she had the "Britney Spears during her pink wig, driving-to-random-gas stations look."

For some reason flying on Southwest puts me at ease much more so than flying any other airline. However once home watching the news, I tried to envision myself in all my Joker hungover glory had I been on the recent Southwest flight where a very large black man exposed himself. I may not have all my facts right but Long Duck Dong apparently whipped it out to the woman next to him then proceeded to get naked in bathroom, head on back to his seat and punch the woman in her face. Really, WTF? Needless to say the pilots turned the plane around and I'm guessing the rest of day was probably not so great for Long Duck (or the passengers).
While this "snake on a plane" scenario would be quite entertaining, I'm sure it would have greatly disrupted my drooling into my travel pillow.

The girls weekend in Arizona was a great success and Val made me laugh so hard many times I thought my Botox would leak. A week later Val and I emailed a picture to each other at almost the exact time: Her photo of a mustard stain on her white pants at work and mine a picture of a giant red drip on the breast of my white Lacoste polo after biting into a very ripe strawberry at work. I knew then we were BFF's forever and possibly even separated at birth.

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