Thursday, May 5, 2011

Five Guys Beat Me Up

Well, not five guys, per say. More, that’s the location. It seems that I can’t even get a burger without having a crisis. Or, maybe the customer base is just insane. Whichever, really. The point is I have no idea how trying to get a hamburger turned into a fight.  Well, I lied. I know how it turned into  a fight and it deals with the three most evil words any woman can hear.

Low carb diet.

Now, for those of you who assume I’m just being dramatic you’ve probably never been through the horror that comes with Atkins. It’s a Hell. It’s unfair, and I’ve seen women threaten to hold up Frito’s trucks if they’re not able to get that almighty fix.  The turn into horrible creatures that look like this:

This woman is obviously crazy.

Which is why the attack should have come as any surprise. I mean, look at that thing. It’s obviously on edge.

Really, my assault was undeserved. Or I’d like to think so. I was innocent, standing there content to wait in line for my wonderful burger.

And then through the doors came a female of very large waist. Perhaps she’d been a stripper in another life. All I know is she was a plus sized woman crammed into spandex that was at least three sizes too small. And she was hungry.

She took place in line behind me, puffing and sighing, and that was that until her friend burst through the doors. Now, I didn’t know it was her friend at the time, but it became rapidly clear when she stood in the door way and screamed for her friend not to get the burger, that they were doing Atkins together.

Once her warning had been trumpeted, the second female-- who looked surprisingly normal for her company—charged toward her friend where they began to bicker. And I mean, yell loud enough that even the slightly Asian people were beginning to go round eyed (Was that racist?). The stripper shoved her friend, her friend shoved back, and then, horror of all horrors... The stripper slammed into me. 
So I did what any logical woman would do. I asked them nicely to stop. They didn't seem to like that much.
Guess who the stripper is.

Then, I was pulled into the yelling and screaming. Suddenly arms were waving and we were all locked in low carb madness.  It was horrible. It was frightening. It was the byproduct of women handing by the end of their rope. And eventually, I ended up punched in the face.

Of course, the squabble ended with all of us being ushered out of the restaurant with some very angry burger worker faces. And other than my black eye I was pretty much okay.

See? Fine. That's a blackeye, by the way. Yes. I got one.

But the point of this story remains the same. Diets are bullshit.

Ronas out.

Ps. I’m not a zombie.

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