Last night I walked up to a man who was wearing my clothes and asked him for a screaming orgasm.Our company had a charity bartending night at a local dive bar, and four members of the executive staff spent the night tending bar. One of them was my grandboss. For reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, it was to be done in costume. I offered to lend said grandboss my priest costume, and he accepted.
So, I had the opportunity to commit a flagrant HR violation in the name of charity... how could I resist?
Someone just asked me, "are you the one with the pink hair?"This morning I checked to see if there were tickets available for Carrie Fisher's show Wishful Drinking at the Berkeley Rep. To my great surprise I found two tickets third row center, so I snarfed them up and grabbed a friend to go with me.
Part of the show involves singling out a few people in the audience and bouncing various things off of them. About five minutes into the show she said, "that chick with the pink hair... she knows what I'm talking about." At some point later she asked me my name and then followed it up with a question, and a few other times asked, "What do you think, Patti?" or something similar.
At intermission I was in the ladies' room, and someone asked, "Are you the one with the pink hair?" Uhh, yeah, I think I might be.
It was an excellent show. Some of the jokes went over the heads of the blue-hair matinee crowd, and every now and then one just fell flat, but most of it was quite funny. I'd see it again.
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