Friday, February 27

bag ladies and space bubbles

i like women. being one myself and having lots of women friends, i think we are just a lovely kind of people.


there is one thing i do not understand about some of the ladies. and this is The Bag. and not just The Bag anywhere. The Bag on the DANCE FLOOR.

ola my peeps! wanna come check out the party in my bag?

now, i just don't understand it? what are you carrying in there? tomorrow's outfit? toiletries? snacks for the after the afterparty picnic? AND WHY IS IT ON THE DANCE FLOOR? it's like a whole other person, except this person is dead and strapped to your back and shoving everyone in the face. even actual dead people have better manners.

second, my little dance floor fille assez élégante, it is a DANCE floor. making little circles with your friends around a sad little heap of your STUFF and dancing around it like a small coven of SATC witches, is at best annoying and at worst enough to make me want to throw my martini on it and set it alight. it takes up space that could be used for DANCING.

and last but not least. at the risk of repeating myself. it is a DANCE FLOOR. not for nought is it called this. the STANDING, TALKING, SITTING, DRINKING space is called the BAR area.

over and out my plums.

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