Red Rocket

lead-lipstickEarlier this week, I eavesdropped on a woman’s conversation. I didn’t mean to. I was just sitting there minding my own business eating my mac n’ cheese when I heard the word ‘humping’. That word sets up a network alarm system in my head as it probably does with everyone. Picture lights and sirens, spot lights, countdown clocks, and guard dogs. My ears were directly paying attention to this woman now. This is what she had to say,

“I just cant get them to stop humping. Its ridiculous Margaret. Its sick is what it is. Daisy is in heat. She’ll just walk over to Rocky and put her ass up in the air. He’ll jump right on her and start going to town. The look on his face is unbelievable. So every time I see his lipstick I’ll start shouting but they aren’t afraid of me like they are of Bob, but, of course, he’s never home. I cant pry him off of her. The lipstick is always out. It’s so gross. They’re giant German Shepherds. I don’t stand a chance. I tried Margaret. I started pushing Rocky off of her, but he just looked me dead in my eye and kept going. I can’t take it. I’ve washed the sheets twice this week. This happens everyday. When will it stop?”

I had my hand over my mouth this entire conversation to try and silence my laughter. I love the idea that this woman has 2 sex-craved animals in her house and she can’t do anything about it. The only enforcer is Bob and he’s never home so this woman just sits there with humping dogs all day. It’s nuts. She continued on about other topics that were driving her to the brink of insanity. After I finished my lunch, I headed towards the door. As I passed her table, I held my phone up to my ear like I was having an actual conversation, I sang, “Maybe It’s Maybelline.”

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