Hey Nimrod, Stop Pre-Authorizing My Card...

Spent another weekend in magical Bethany Beach last week and somehow ended up at Fager's in Ocean City two nights in a row - totally unnecessary. As a result of the shenanigans at what is easily one of the most 'white-trash-people-per-capita' locations on the East coast, my ladies and I found ourselves the next day with a hankering for some dirty, dirty food. As luck would have it, the mecca that is 'Boardwalk Fries' was walking distance from our beach towels and we were able to satiate our need for grease around mid-afternoon.

In my opinion, if you're going to shovel processed meat and starch down your gullet, either go big or GTFOOH. In this vain, the three of us all ordered the "chicken lunch" - but this is no ordinary lunch special, this baby is two delicious chicken tenders on top of french fries all neatly packed into...... a sand bucket (complete with a tiny little shovel). I couldn't have been happier.

So, I order my chicken bucket of dreams and hand my debit card over to slackjawed Scully behind the register and he proceeds to run my card over, and over, and over, and over, and over, AND OVER AGAIN. "It's not werkin!" He exclaimed. "QUIT DOING THAT!" I replied. I watched in horror as he continued to swipe my card but was somewhat relieved when only one receipt printed out - whew, crisis averted right? Um no. So wrong.

I get home on Sunday night and I'm too deliriously tired to pick up the computer to check my bank statement, so bright and early Monday morning I check the old account and BLAMMO, that moron pre-authorized $150 worth of Boardwalk Fries to my checking account. Are you f-ing kidding me? I won't even let myself buy a dress without it being on sale and using a coupon code, do you really think I'm going to drop $150 on chicken-in-a-bucket?!!? I took a deep breath and just allowed myself to think positively that perhaps the charges would go away - no such luck. Sure enough, more than $70 worth of greasy beach shame posted to my account.

In an effort to avoid the whole 'disputing the charges' debacle that ultimately ensues from this type of nonsense, I tried calling the Bethany Beach Boardwalk Fries. You know who I spoke to? A man named Frank, who assured me that he did not in fact work at Boardwalk Fries and that he has had his phone number for more than two years (thanks for NOTHING Google search). So I emailed the corporate office. A lady named "Pat" informed me that the Bethany shop is not corporately owned and that I would have to get in touch with the franchise owner named George who I ended up leaving four voicemails, I have yet to hear from this "George" who must be one of the richest people on the planet because charging people $10.45 for chicken and ice tea is absolutely ridiculous.

Cut to me calling my bank this morning:

*S* - "Oh yes, good morning, I need to dispute some of the charges on my debit card."
Teller - "Let me transfer you."
Manager - "What can I do for you today?"
*S* - "Unfortunately I need to dispute some of the charges on my debit card, the account number is ____ and the charges are all for $10.45.
..........I hear the manager type, type, typing away, and then, I hear him SNICKERING.
Manager - "I believe I see the charge that you are talking about."
*S* - "I SWEAR I DID NOT EAT $150 WORTH OF BOARDWALK FRIES LAST WEEKEND."
Manager - .....cannot stop laughing.....
*S* - "This is so embarrassing."
Manager - "I'm sorry, but you'll have to come into the branch and sign an affidavit saying that you were overcharged."

AN AFFIDAVIT?!?! FOR CHICKEN?!?!

Needless to say, I put on the biggest sunglasses I own and strolled into the Burke and Herbert this afternoon to get this whole mess straightened out. Moral of the story: Fast food kills. Not only does it kill your body, but it kills your bank account and in this case, your self-esteem too.

But you know what? I really can't wait to get another one of those lunch buckets when I'm back at the beach - but I think I'll pay cash this time.

I LOVE MY WHOLE HOUSE!!!

When it rains it pours people. Apologies for the delay in witty rudeness but I have had a very busy schedule of organizing, planning, organizing some more and boozing.

Unfortunately as a result I have a backlog of awesome material to cover and so some of these posts might just be a little backassward.

There have been a lot of great things going on (reunions with loves, kicking off my feet on the pike, Beckying up Delaware), but there have also been some really yucky things going on. In an effort to push past these yucky things, I am going to take a life lesson from this little gem and start trying to do my own daily affirmations whilst standing on my sink. Standby for video proof in a few days (maybe).

"When was the last time you had truly mind blowing sex?" - some Rick

This little gem of a quote was said to me at approximately 2 a.m. at the Lighthouse in Dewey Beach (yes, I was there blowing my paychecks on double vodkas and assorted suntan lotions). The rest of the engagement went a little something like this..... wait, let me paint a visual image; this guy was about 6'4'' with dark hair and features (sounds good right?), but he was wearing a black and white gingham checkered print shirt unbuttoned so you could see his gnarly chest hair and he had the creepiest of 'best-guyfriend-sidekicks' who was giving me looks that would have ashamed his mother. Now onto the encounter:

Moron: "When was the last time that you had truly mind blowing sex?"
S: "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
Moron: "It's a very serious question."
S: "I understand that it's a very serious question."
Moron: "Because if your answer isn't 'today' then I am here to change that for you. You are way too hot to not be having mind blowing sex everyday."
S: "I'll tell you what is blowing my mind right now, this conversation. And I am never having any kind of sex with you."

This is just one of possibly hundreds of the exact same scenario that my girlfriends and I experienced during what can only be considered 'Spring Break for Young Professionals.' I have seen a lot of raging in my day, but this Memorial Day weekend in Delaware was one for the books. I don't know if it was the brutal winter that we all experienced in the DMV, or the high rate of unemployment or what it was that contributed to how phenomenally ridiculous EVERYONE was behaving. I went to Ocean City last summer for Memorial Day and it was definitely out of control, but this, this was so much more than that.

While most of the events of this weekend will be tucked away in my little 'well I guess that I can check that one off the life list' file, some of the stories are simply too good to not share. For example, one of my friends actually SLEPT at the Rusty Rudder. Not. Kidding. At. All. We awoke on Sunday morning and drove from Bethany back to Dewey to pick up TQ's car (big ups to TQ for being the ultimate superstar of the weekend), and as we're pulling out of our parking spot, our friend who had gone missing walks in front of our car! (These moments of happenstance took place all weekend long, it was magical). We're getting our iced coffees in an attempt to return to our human forms and he proceeds to let us know that he fell asleep in a BOOTH at the Rudder and woke up Sunday morning to a small yappy dog nipping at his ankles and morning-shift servers getting their sections ready. WTF right? So awesome.

Other amazing things that came out of this weekend include several new key terms that will be incorporated into my vocabulary for most of the foreseeable future (and hopefully the rest of my life. My dear friend Coco Deluxe has been calling random white girls Becky's for sometime now and prior to departing for the beach I was listening to 95.5 and one of the DJ's said "and everyone remembers how Tiki Barber left his wife earlier this year for some Becky...." Thus, this entire weekend was spent referring to the plethora of dumb broads everywhere as Becky's. We of course needed a complimentary term for the schlew of random white dudes present and thus coined the term Rick. This lead to such hilarious incidents such as:

TQ: Listen here Rick, we're not trying to talk to you.
Moron: What's a Rick?
S: YOU ARE.

All in all, this was probably the most incredible kick-off to summer that I have ever experienced. I truly don't know how any other weekend is going to measure up but something tells me that Summer 2K10 is going to be the stuff of legends.

One thing that I am positive of is that my political career is officially ruined. Thanks for nothing Dewey Beach. I hate you. And by hate you, I mean I'll see you in two weeks.