What about your friends?

Q: What's scarier than being trapped in a room with a clown?
A: Being trapped in a room full of 4 clowns

For the sake of avoiding argument, let’s say that I have what is commonly referred to as a "friend". We’ll call this person, D.

I met D in the summer of 2004 at the shittiest place that I’ve ever worked. Ironically, this is also my current (and hopefully very temporary) place of employment, albeit in a different department than before. D still works there (‘cept she’s in the Multilingual Department, speaking the French), so we see each other basically everyday at work.

Sometimes I think D is crazy, she’s funny, but crazy. Five years ago she moved to Oklahoma from a country in West Africa to go to school. Five years in Oklahoma City and the one piece of American culture that she’s chosen to embrace…is country music. Not that I think country music is crazy…I just think it’s crappy. D is crazy for a whole ‘nother set of reasons that I may or may not get into at a later date.

I made plans yesterday to hang out with D after work. We were supposed to watch movies, drink beer and order some take-out. We got to Blockbuster and rented Diary of a Mad Black Woman (which, by the way, is a little slice of alright – thanks, in part, to fine-ass Shemar Moore…*deep breath* annnnnyway…)

On the way back to D’s car, she casually mentions that she has to stop off somewhere before we went back to her place, but that it shouldn’t take very long and it wasn’t far from her apartment.

Now, tell me why -- five minutes later – I found myself smack dab in the middle of a goddamn Mary Kay party?

A Tupperware party, I can deal with…the snackage? C’est magnifique. But a Mary Kay party is a horse of a different color. They basically force you to put a bunch of shit on your face. (No, André...not literally shit...but it might as well be).

I can count on one hand the number of times in the past year that I’ve applied make-up to my face. When I think of things in which I want to invest my paycheck…cosmetic products do not make the list.

This "visit" that was not going to be "very long" lasted for 3 hours and, by the end, I had a bunch of crap on my face that I didn’t want there in the first place. To top it all off, the "independent beauty consultant" had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to order anything.

To say I was heated is somewhat of an understatement, but instead, I politely declined and tried to mentally find my happy place.

Eventually, D and I did get around to watching the movie and eating some food. However, we had no beer, which basically makes last night one of the worst nights of this month.

But I’m fixin to make up for it with a 12-pack of Shiner.