There’s no place like home.

An actual conversation I had with Red today:

Red: The guy at the liquor store liked your nail polish.

Chelsie: Yeah. So?

Red: That means one of three things.

Chelsie: —

Red: One, he was hitting on you. Two, he was gay.

Chelsie: I don’t think he was gay.

Red: Me, neither. Or three: he likes to dress up on weekends.

Chelsie: You’re not talking about a three piece suit are you?

Red: Nope.

Chelsie: And you don’t think he was hitting on me?

Red: No. I was standing right behind you and you’re wearing your ring.

Chelsie: So the only option left is that a cross dresser thought my nail polish would compliment his Judy Garland outfit?

Red: Well…

Chelsie: It is cute. And the color is called ‘Ruby Slippers’. At least he had good taste.

Red: And at least it wasn’t your feet he was looking at…

Chelsie: You win.

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About Chelsie

Mommy. Beauty product whore. Plastic lawn flamingo enthusiast. Nosy neighbor. One day novelist.
This entry was posted in Red, The Month of Blogging Dangerously, Weirdness and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to There’s no place like home.

  1. mairedubhtx says:

    What an odd experience, but good material for a blog.

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