Betty Buzz gets her groove on....

As long as I can remember, my Mom has had a special gift.  She is open and friendly and people like to talk to her.  Perfect strangers tell her their life stories, like, the personal in-depth stuff.  I am finding, in spite of my "non huggy" vibe, I too, have inherited this "gift."  I didn't ask for it, it just happens.  I often try and stop it, but people tell me stuff and I seem powerless to stop the ones that are hell bent on sharing.  Just today I had to hold someone at bay.  This gal came up that needed me to help her with replacing her lost badge.  I was a bit surly about it, but she wasn't afraid.  She isn't afraid of anyone.  In fact, she loves to hug everyone.  I didn't want to be hugged.  I saw the gleam in her eye, she was moving in. I thrust my hand out and said, "STOP!  Don't even try any form of public displays of affection with me.  It isn't happening in this area or any other, NO."  She stared at me, contemplating her options.  She backed away and agreed that we would not hug on this day.

However, my victory was to be short-lived.  I had no idea what the afternoon was about to bring. The phrase "ignorance is bliss" could not be more true as I reflect upon my day.  You see, today was what we call Vendor Day at work.  We have outside vendors come in to sell their wares.  My Mom decided to be one of those vendors and that is where the trouble started.  Mom sat there, all cute, her curly, clip-on pony tail, her little table set up with some jewelry and her bubble shirts.  As her and the other vendors waited for people to come down and check stuff out, they started to mingle and talk.  Mom made friends with a woman I shall call Betty Buzz. I came down to check on Mom and see how things were going and her and Betty Buzz were chit-chatting and looking at a catalog.  Mom introduced me as her daughter to Betty and apparently, that made me an instant friend. Betty wants to give Mom and I facials.  I said, I didn't really think so since I was pretty sure her product would not be compatible with my skin.  Betty was not deterred.  She showed me her catalog with all these dresses in it. I don't know what that had to do with the business she was here promoting, but ok.  She informed me the dresses would fit people of all sizes.  Wait, did she just call me fat?  Whatever, that was the least of my worries.  She turns the pages and stops on a page full of vibrators.  That's right, sex toys.  How did we just go from a facial to a floral maxi dress to getting your freak on? Or off...anyway, I said, "Wow, that's quite a catalog."  She says, "yeah, isn't it?  See this one? (she points to a purple one that is kind of in a C shape) I bet that really helps you find your G-spot."  I just kind of raised my eyebrows, gave it the tight-lipped smirk and said, "yeah..."  Betty wasn't done talking.  She says, "I have one kind of like this.  This one time I was laying on my waterbed and I hadn't put the sheets on yet, not sure why, but I hadn't and I was trying to find my G-spot.  I was moving that thing all around and I couldn't find the damn thing.  I mean I worked at it and worked at it and then finally...Ziiiiiinnnngggggg found it."  I looked at Mom, looked at Betty Buzz and said, "Ok, well, I gotta go."  I got in the elevator and stood there dumb-founded.  What just happened?  Instantly, I had a visual of the situation. NO NO NO....no, no, no.  NO visuals......yikes.  I started running through the scenario.  Who has a waterbed anymore?  Who? Does anyone? Do they even still make them?  And why didn't she have sheets on it?  Ew.  And why did I, a perfect stranger, have to know about her G-spot exploration?  I didn't sign up for this.

I talked to Mom about it as she was leaving and she advised me that after I left, Betty Buzz informed her where the G-spot is.  Damn, I left too soon.  But then Mom said Betty had to hug her before she left.  Ok, good, I left just in time. Mom says she still wants to give us a facial.  I'm scared, I'm not sure what kind of "facial" she is talking about.  Betty isn't touching me, this I know for certain.  The thing is, I'm not a prude. I can talk about sex.  Sex can be funny.  But usually this is a conversation I would have with Mom, or good friends and alcohol might be involved.  Talking about about Betty Buzz's deep dive into where her G-spot was wasn't what I had planned for my afternoon.

The rest of my day was pretty tame after that, I guess.  How do you top story time with Betty Buzz?  I don't think you do.  On that note, I'm calling it a night.