4 stories.

Thursday night at the bar I ran into this one bleach blonde, edgy-but-nice former masters student I know, and since her boyfriend the bartender with the huge fro, who is also nice, was busy, I said hi and invited her to sit down with me and my friends.

After talking about her hair some - she teaches and waitresses at night, and said once her hair caught fire because she stood too close to the heat lamp for the food when she was traying up an order; she said also sometimes her hair gets stuck with her boyfriend's because of the chemicals in hers and his texture - she told a few stories:

1) One time there was this younger (black?) couple at the restaurant and the woman when she came up to the table was like, "Damn, you are cute, do you like women?", and when the girl who I know said she was cool with that but she had a boyfriend, the woman at the table was like, "Well, are you open to cheating on him with my boyfriend here?", she was like no, and the woman was like, "But no, you have no idea how big his dick is."

2) Another time, this fatter (black) dude in a pirate hat and a dashiki (sp.?) came in smelling like patchouli and with a Dunkin Donuts bag, and he said he was just going to sit there and eat if that was okay, even though the restaurant is a slightly upscale Asian bistro place.

But, first, as soon as she came to the table, he leaned in toward her and said loudly, "I've given up my porkchops, but I have not given up my white women."

3) This other waitress has this deep scar on her tit you could almost stick your finger into with room. It turns out she went for a boob job in Tijuana since it was cheaper there, and the doctor was drunk and dropped a heated iron on her breast.

"All it left was a scar?", I was like. "I'm surprised the whole thing didn't burst like a big old tit pimple," and I added that I had seen those silicone bag things on 60 Minutes and would imagine they'd pop like that.

4) Back growing up in Minnesota, she lived on a farm and took riding lessons, and one day after lessons in the barn she came across some baby rats, very small and immobile and white and with their eyes not opened yet, so she told her trainer (? - the guy who gave her lessons?). He said she was a big girl and could kill them herself, and he usually took them down to the river, so she did that, but then she couldn't kill them, so she left them in the cloth she had picked them up in sitting down by the bank. A few days later she came by and they were shrivelled and dead, and she realized she had left them in the direct mid-summer sun on a day when it was like 105 degrees out, and that it would have been nicer to kill them than let them died like that.