The buffet table at a Mexican restaurant.
Everyone at the restaurant belongs to the same professional organization.
One very frosted blonde 45-ish-year-old wearing a tight Alabama football t-shirt and tighter blue jeans. We'll call her Candy.
One brunette 45-ish-year-old wearing a long, knit, halter dress and accessories. We'll call her Ruth.
:: Ruth is filling her plate with rice and beans at the buffet before joining the rest of the group in the banquet hall::
:: Candy is reaching into the same pan of rice and beans before joining her friends at the bar::
:: Candy looks up and sees Ruth::
CANDY: OMG! OMG! Ruth! I didn't RECOGNIZE you!
RUTH: You didn't?
CANDY: OMG. Nooooooo.
RUTH: Um...well, I look just the same as I always have.
CANDY: No you DON'T! You SO don't!! You look GREAT!
Aside: The woman digging into the pan of cheesy beef enchiladas with me stops dead. I freeze. We glance up at Candy, then at each other, drop our spoons and walk away in opposite directions. Neither wanting to witness what might come next.
For the next four hours, Ruth dances around the bar-area, working hard to avoid Candy. I believe if she gets too close she will stab Candy in the eye with the business end of a tortilla chip.
Candy remains oblivious, watching NASCAR (Darlington. Night race.) sucking down Bud Selects and loudly passing judgement on everyone at the bar.
Unfortunately, I was not in possession of the equipment necessary to flatten Candy's tires. You know, just to help along Karma a little bit.
Ruth, my sister, I'll never leave home without drywall screws again.
Image Credit: http://www.manbottle.com/picture_library/blonde_wish...