I hate drunks.
No. I really hate them. What a bunch of miserable morons! Loud, obnoxious, vulgar, inappropriate, inconsiderate, rude, offensive, crude, obscene, disgusting people.
And, just in case you didn’t catch my drift, I hate them.
There, I said it and now I feel a whole lot better.
It was hubby’s company Christmas party last night and the eight or so men who were drinking pretty much ruined the entire evening for the other 25 or so of us. I don’t know why nobody took care of the situation. If I had had my phone I would have called the police for disorderly conduct, public intox or something. But no one did a thing.
I stood up and said, “Knock it off. You’re being inappropriate and rude.” BIG mistake. The huzb told me to mind my business and not make it worse for everyone. Sure enough they turned up the volume and the obscenities. For the next two hours I heard the [you know] word at least two hundred times. Hubby said, “Ignore them!’ I tried! I really tried.
On the way out I told hubby’s boss what a bunch of morons he had back there. And he agreed. He promised me he’d take care of it in the morning.
Never in my life have I been more hopeful that someone would get hit by a Mac truck on the way home.
OK. I really can’t say that.
I’ll just say this. Never will I leave my cell phone home again!