JM had an Awesome Engagement Party, but I Think I'll Tell You About Taxis Instead...

Miss (soon to be Mrs!) WF came into town this weekend for J and C's engagement party. Which, by the way, was surely one for the books. Friday night, the girls got together to spend a few hours reminiscing about old times. Always a good time, folks. So, this story got brought up and I just had to share.

To begin, every once in a while, I find myself in the midst of a situation where I'm physically in the middle of things but not really that involved in it. An innocent bystander, if you will. Like the time I thought LT was gonna rip a girl's head off. Awwwkward. Or the classic times when somebody's talking about somebody else and the talked-about girl overhears and confronts the talker. Even more awkward.

But there are the ever-present hilarious times that I am sitting/standing there thanking my lucky stars I'm witness to what's going on. Like when we were in New York a couple years ago.

LH, WF, JM and I had celebrated our first night in the Big City in a very BIG way. We were on Cloud 9 and trying to head home. Mind you, this is after JM's umbrella turned somersaults down 5th Avenue and she had a major minor freak out moment on the side of the street. This was also after the random Irish guy we met tried to go home with us, we said no and he yelled something about peacoats and "fat arses" - side note: we're not really big girls. And JM's figure resembles something like a toothpick that got together with an hourglass one night and produced her - okay rant over.

Anyways, we call a cab and all jump in. WF on one side, me in the middle and JM on another side.....and LH in the front seat with the foreign driver. Well, if you know LH at all, you know the girl can literally talk to a brick wall for hours on end and walk away swearing it was the most liberating conversation of her life. 

So of course, she strikes up a chat with taxi man. Well, the conversation turns to football (no shock there). JM breaks out the camera and starts videoing, because if we know one thing, it's that this convo is about to take a turn for the worst. 

LH: So, you like football?

Taxi Man (in a thick Indian accent): Umm, I'm sorry?

LH: You know. Football. (In a REALLY bad Indian accent and also 10 times louder and slower than need be) Aaahhh-mmeeerrr-eeeee-kkkaaaannnn Fuuuuut-baaawwwllll. 

TM: Ah. Yes. (Dirty look).

LH: Well, you ever been to Death Valley? 

TM: Pardon me?

LH: Dude! Death Valley!!!!!!!!! The greatest place on the face of this freakin' earth. Clemson plays there. They're the best football team in the ACC. HECK, they're the best team in all of college football. You gotta come. You gotta be there when they run down the hill. I mean, dude, it's freakin' awesome. It's like....so awesome.

TM: ................

Meanwhile, WF is next to me speaking in her "mean mommy tone" about how she just knows that we've passed that store eight and a half times and that "excuse me driver, don't you try to give us the run around, I know this city and I'll kick you straight to New Jersey if you try to jip us money. There it is again! The same building! Y'all, he's trying to take us all around to make more money!"

JM's cracking up. WF's obviously being Nazi tourist. And LH is talking this poor man's head off about a sport, team, stadium and place that he will forever vow to never be a part of because of this very night. Me? I'm in the middle of the backseat. Watching it all happen and feeling kind of sorry for the guy driving us. Also, knowing that he is, in fact, NOT driving us around NYC, he's driving twice the legal limit to get us to our destination and out. of. the. car. OUT OF THE CAR. 

I wonder to this day if he remembers us. Those little southern girls in peacoats with fat arses. My bet is yes.