Thursday, September 27, 2012

Topless Women

Yesterday for my birthday my friends went above and beyond. Ryan O'Regan took me out to breakfast. Tiffany took me out to coffee. Cathy took me out to coffee. And then Vips had sort of a last minute get together. I knew Vips, Jen, Lynn from the telegram company, and then of course Sarah. Vips had some other friends come over who were pretty cool, a couple from England. And then there was a woman named Jeanette. Jeanette is Vips's downstairs neighbor. Jeanette comes in with a short reddish, orange dress and a prime set of knockers. Immediately I liked her the second she opened her mouth. A divorcee who works in finance with a condo in Philly when she wants to get away from the job or the naggings of a stupid ex husband, she slips away. Apparently, she had made friends with the manager of the place that they were getting cocktails and the manager, hot for this siren of a woman, invited her back to jazz night.

As the evening progressed, we all stayed up well past our bed time. I wasn't planning a big party because I am not really a birthday person. Plus my cousin was supposed to come to town and flaked out. The last ticket to Otto and George was sold out probably and I had already backed out for my cousin who backed out on me. I was planning to spend the night alone before this get together was planned. So when the cake came, I bought the cookies, and then the Brits got oysters and fries from an eatery around the corner and Vips ordered oodles of pizza I was like, "Wow, this is good. My body will be paying tomorrow but this is good."

So as I ate this awesome yet bizarre food combo, Vips gave me a cake with trick candles. I made my wish a billion gazillion times. It felt good to be blowing out the cake for once instead of the the entertainment carrying armed and dangerous with song and dance. Or me not onstage with a puppet, although Don Juan did make an appearance. Then Jeanette mentioned her ta tas were fake. While I was going back and fourth about whether they were real or fake, I had my doubts but yet Mother Nature can be wonderfully generous to certain creatures. Jeanette revealed the operation was eleven grand. Wowsa!!!!!

We all admired the boob job she had and she offered to show us, that is, on the condition the men would go into the bathroom. Vips and Simon were damned to the bathroom and JEanette stripped down to bra and panties and exposed her ta tas. Jen, the British Lady, and myself all took a turn feeling these works of art. Meanwhile Vips and Simon, damned to the bathroom, were banging on the door because being men they wanted to feast their eyes. While they are both nice guys, they are still guys, and the things that get their attention are tits, Shark Week, and Football. Jen, trying to subdue them, held the door, as we all continue to admire the nice job Jeanette's plastic surgeon did on her bust. Wow.

Part of me wanted to turn into a feminist, informing this woman she was more than her bust size. Then I looked down at my modest B cup and looked at her nice surgical enhancement. She said the t job made her feel complete when she looked at herself naked. I figured she was a woman slugging it out without the help of a man, why not let her be happy? Let her have her boob job. And if we are ever trapped in the ocean as our ship is sinking she has a good heart and will have no problem being my life raft. I loved her and I loved her boob job. My only regret is that she put her clothes back on so she didn't jump out of my cake.

After Vips and Simon were let out of the bathroom we discussed boob jobs. I told Vips I now wanted one and he supported my decision. Then Vips informed me that I looked fine. Sigh.

While today my stomach is paying me back for poor dietary decisions, the topless female was the best birthday surprise ever. They always ask if a hot man or woman jumped out of the cake and in my case she almost did.

If this is any indication of what twenty-eight will be it is already looking awesome.

Love, April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl


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