um...
this morning, i was on the train, hungover and sweating champagne. i went out to dinner with my coworker andrea and we killed a bottle of champagne and a bottle of chianti and then started our night.
so i'm standing there and the guy next to me slumps over. i'm about to shoot him a dirty look because he's in my personal fucking space and then he collapses. he's on the ground convulsing, eyes are rolling in the back of his head. i'm totally freaked out and i scoot away from him. i look around and no one is doing anything so i kneel down next to him and put his head in my lap because the convulsing is making his head slam into the ground. i am florence fucking nightingale. and the whole time, i'm thinking, "this asshole better not get spit all over my dress."
so he comes to and tells me that he's diabetic and needs sugar. i know, i know. carry a fucking werther's orginal around with you, jackoff. but this is not the time or place to bitch about it.
so i'm like, "does anyone have anything with sugar?"
this guy next to me is like, "i have jam!" and he hands me a jar of jam. straight up homemade by grandma in a mason jar. i pop that bitch open (and it does pop so grandma made it well) and....
well, picture it (sicily, 1934...kidding).
no really, picture it: i'm in a short blue button up dress cradling a bald dude with a jar of jam opened in my hand with two fingers poised to go in for the kill. are you hearing me? i'm about to hand fucking feed a man fig preserves! suddenly, i don't wanna do this. it's like every almost one night stand i've ever had- gut feeling just says no. so i look up at the 18 people staring at me and i scream out, "seriously? all you people have is JAM?!?! NO ONE HAS A FUCKING CLIFF BAR? A STICK OF GUM? A FUCKING PEPPERMINT FROM NEXT TO THE REGISTER OF THE DINER YOU ATE AT LAST NIGHT? NOTHING?!?!?!"
a guy actually laughs and contributes, "or does anyone at least have a utensil?"
finally, a girl hands me a baggie full of strawberries and i feed him three strawberries and then he got off and merchandise mart and someone walked him to his office.
again, JAM?!?!?! A JAR OF FUCKING JAM?!?!
hey, what's the difference between jam and jelly?
you can't jelly a cock in someone's mouth!
