Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Maury! I found your next guest!

One day, I was working at the convenience store when three young ladies walked in.   I use that term loosely. Hoochies, hos, tramps, street rats. Those might be more descriptive. Anyways, who am I to judge.

Back to my story. These "ladies" come in and are trying to decide what cheap sunglasses go best with their outift or something equally stupid like that.  All I hear is "blah blah blah, duh, oh my god." Once again, who am I to judge?

They are soon joined by the last member of their hoochie quartet.This one is pregnant and she is so fucking pissed.  I know this because her baby bump is framed by her midriff tanktop and she came in the door and said "I'm so fucking pissed!"  If anything, I am observant.

Although I try not to listen in on this conversation, the volume at which hoochie #4 is yelling makes that an impossible attempt.   From what I could understand, she had just been told that some guy was speaking ill of her.  I do not remember the guy's name, so we'll call him Bob.    Apparently, Bob was telling everybody that he "hit that" and that he was her "baby daddy". These are the actual terms used in conversation.  Now, while this may sound like an everyday conversation between ladies of such high standing, it is what was said next that makes this story memorable. 

Hoochie #4 finished off this conversation with this classic exchange.  I quote, "He wishes he got a piece of this.  There only three guys who could be this baby daddy and he ain't one of them!"  I thought this only happened on Maury Povich.  She needs to get the test results in. 

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