friends don't let friends rock mullets. in fact, a true friend would get a mullet-wearing buddy fed-ex drunk and then go all britney on her head. it's tough love, but sometimes that is the only way to do right by someone.
in addition to not being able to follow simple directions, social worker 3.5 decided to embrace her inner trailer-dweller. that's right. the girl turned up all business in the front, party in the back. maybe she was just preparing to see clients in the 909 or felt like bringing back a stereotype for spring. either way, mp asked to be seated away from the windows. the first words mp spoke to sw3.5 were, "i need to stop banging social workers, because you're all fucking crazy."
after dining nascar-style, mp was moseying to the local starbucks for her night cruise, uh... cap, when she heard the familiar sounds of $150 flattening out by the second. she pulled over at the nearest available spot, and as she sat across from where she used to live and talked to pimptress, she realized that nothing was bringing her down. the crazy moments in life are all good. every single one of them. she still had fun at dinner (and resisted the urge to chuck the mullet on the arm in goodbye). she laughed when she thought about all the crap that had happened when she lived in the area-- including birthing me. she smiled when the tow truck driver arrived (in only 13 minutes).
...and when the big, dirty work gloves came off, and soft, manicured hands came out to shake goodbye, followed by the unzipping of the top of the baggy jumpsuit, she was even happier. thank god for equal opportunity employment in long beach. later on, mp is going tire shopping with her new friend, and they'll try to figure out what the best way to roll (around) is.
