Well, I went to get my haircut this afternoon by my usual hairdresser Dawnielle. I've been needing a cut for a while and didn't realize why I waited do long until I found out it was fate.
Now Saturday evening, I went out with my husband and his best friend. A few hours and many drinks into it, I was ready to leave and took a cab ride home.
Jason and Aaron stayed. When I woke up, neither of them could quite piece together their evening. I now know how Jason made it home.
Dawnielle saw some crazy man stumbling down the Jack in the Box alley screaming for someone to buy him food. She promptly realized that the drunk man was none other that my husband. Being the good Samaritan that she is, she told his drunk ass to get in the car and that she would drive him home. He introduced himself, and she told him that she was his hairdresser too. To which he responded, "I buzz my own hair lady."
He handed her a fifty to buy him a couple of Jumbo Jacks and then reminded her not to steal his money. Food in hand and a long drive home (because he gave her several wrong directions), you would think a simple "thank you" would suffice.
But no, he proceeded to tell her the rules and etiquette to tipping. Then, proceeded to tell her about how Eminem is the best rapper alive. Dawnielle's niece did not agree and said it was TuPac. Jason replied with "Um, he died like a million years ago."
After 29 minutes of hearing him yammer on about nothing in particular, Jason parted ways with my hairdresser by freestyling his own rap.
Now I only wish I knew where Aaron ran off to that evening. Maybe my manicurist knows.
In conclusion, I have now realized my husband turns into a full blown creeper when he's been drinking. So next time you see someone screaming in the Jack in the Box parking lot for food, look the other way cause he's probably had one to many surfers on acid.
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