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.

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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