FML…
My night progresses in a series of gropes, grumbles, and glaring unfairness.
Mrs. Newton drags her fake finger nailed hand down my leather coat covered chest…Is that Cheetos dust on her finger? She attempts to purr, which sounds more like a cross between a growl and a dying duck, before asking me what I wear under my kilt.
While I'm focused on the sheer balls it took to ask her question and whether or not she's left a trail of orange shit on my new coat, she sneaks her hand up the back of my kilt to grab a handful of my ass.
WHAT THE FUCK!
I push her pizza into her hands and walk off without giving her change. My hands clench into fists and I pull out my antibacterial wipes as soon as I reach my car, scrubbing my ass cheek furiously. It comes back orange.
I'm having words with Alice.
All orange tinted things are dedicated to the wonderful KitKat:)
xoxo
LadyV
