Monday, February 2, 2009

Strippers and hos, I mean, holes.

The kids were both gone this weekend, and I woke up Sunday morning craving donuts. Kenny obliged by driving me to Shipley's. Mmmm...Bullseyes. The best donut ever invented. It was packed in the donut store, as usual. I waited patiently for my turn to order my pile of donuts and donut holes. Meanwhile, I dug through my purse seeing what cash I could find, because I was sure I had spotted a dollar or two in there. Somehow, I managed to find about fifteen dollar bills. Odd, because I never have cash. I pulled them all out, and showed Kenny.

"Where did all these dollars come from," I asked him.

He matter-of-factly and loudly replied, "Well, you did work last night."

Several people turn around.

He keeps going. "I told you to trade those dollar bills in at the end of the night, but you never listen to me."

If I had thought quicker, I would have replied with something like, "Well, if you would pay for my boob job, then I would make more than single dollar bills." But I hadn't had coffee yet.

Instead, I giggled, ordered my donuts, and playfully smacked Kenny on the way out the door cause some old lady now thinks I am a stripper.

7 comments:

Allison said...

Yes, this is why you love him ;-)

I am Trish Marie said...

Yeah...he thinks he is funny. Although, I probably encourage this behavior by laughing.

Aimee' said...

Mmmm...Shipley's! My weakness for sure.

Sheri said...

HAHAHAHA!

And their chocolate filled are the best ones EVER!

Allie said...

Damn, I miss Shipley's...and strippers!

zakary said...

I always forget to trade my ones in at the bar and I know the lady at my bank thinks I'm a stripper. She won't make eye contact with me.

And now I want a goddamn donut.

I am Trish Marie said...

I am soooo making you a shirt that says, "I am NOT a stripper," with a picture of a stripper on it to wear to the bank.