Same-Siders

To everyone who reads this blog:  please never be a same-sider.  I hate them.  If you are a same-sider, either cease in your disgusting ways or stop reading this blog because you and I are no longer friends.

How do you know if you are a same-sider?  Well, same-siders are people who sit next to each other side-by-side in a booth at a restaurant and leave the other half of the booth empty.  Rex and I experienced a horrible display of same-siders tonight at Olive Garden.  It was disturbing and horrifying.  I almost couldn't eat due to the grossness, but come on - it's Olive Garden.  I can't think of anything that would gross me out enough to pass up that food.

It all started when we were waiting to be seated.  We had just finished chatting up Tommy, a random Olive Garden host who gave us some free wine.  While sipping our delicious wine (everything tastes better when it's free), I noticed a couple in the corner and pointed them out to Rex.  They looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and they were awkwardly physical.  The boy had his hands in the front pockets of her skinny jeans, and they were gazing at each other as if locked in an epic staring contest.  Every once in a while one of them would go in for a kiss.  Very strange.  The girl looked like every stereotype that you think of when I say "sorority girl."  She was skinny with fake blonde hair and too much make-up.  She was wearing a hot pink V-neck sweater with skinny jeans and boots.  I think they were Uggs, but I can't really remember.  The boy, on the other hand, had made no effort whatsoever to dress up for their date.  He was wearing a white T-shirt with a pocket on it, baggy jeans, and off-brand Air Jordans.  I think he might have brushed his shaggy brown hair, but that was the extent of his date preparation.

Much to my chagrin, the creepy couple got seated in the booth right behind Rex.  I had a perfect view of them, but Rex couldn't see since he was facing me.  I knew we were in for an interesting dinner when they scooched in next to each other and immediately started making out.  Ummm...HELLO, you're in an Olive Garden!  There are children here!  I almost choked on my bread stick.  Rex wanted to know what was going on, so I started narrating for him.  It turned into a really funny dinner.  I can't possibly transcribe the events to you effectively, because it was so much more gross/funny/pathetic than you can possibly imagine.  I will walk you through the highlights, though, so you can get an idea.

Let's start with their order.  He ordered for her, since obviously he "knows what she likes."  He ordered them both the same dinner, too, because they have "so much in common." *kiss kiss snuggle snuggle*  I bet she hates fettuccine alfredo.  Actually, I really hope she does.  That would make the whole thing even funnier.  The waitress brought out their salad and bread sticks, and they dug in.  The girl giggled and fawned over her bread stick, exclaiming, "Oh my gosh, it's like, so fluffy!  Awwww..."  It's not a pomeranian, chicky babe.  Eat your food.  While she was admiring the texture of her bread, the boy leaned over and picked up a piece of lettuce off of her plate with his teeth.

Wait, I'm not sure you got that.  He leaned over her, put his face directly INTO HER FOOD, and grabbed a piece of lettuce.  Then he lifted up his head and presented her with his puckered lettuce lips, where she proceeded to EAT THE OTHER HALF OF THE PIECE OF LETTUCE OUT OF HIS MOUTH!  Um, NASTY.  I laughed out loud.  I couldn't help it.  Who DOES that?!

They finished their appetizers and continued to nuzzle and kiss.  She got bored, so she pulled out her Hello Kitty cell phone (the cell phone had cat ears on it - I kid you not).  She turned away from the guy and started texting, and he continued kissing her neck.  That's probably the most awkward thing ever.   No wait, that's a lie.  The lettuce thing was way more awkward.

Finally the food arrived for Mr. and Mrs. Nasty.  I thought, "Great.  Now I can get a break from this while they eat their food."  BUT NO - do you want to know how they ate their food?  DO YOU?  They fed each other simultaneously.  Like, they'd both twirl their forks into the noodles, pick up a bite, and then put it into the other person's mouth.  Remember - they're not sitting across from each other, but next to each other, so they had to awkwardly reach over their side to reach the other person's mouth.  It was SO STRANGE.

Rex said, "You know that kid thinks he's going to get lucky tonight."  I responded with, "He probably is...possibly before they even finish dinner."  By the time they finished their fettuccine, her shirt was almost totally off.  It had been pulled down her shoulder to her elbow, exposing her totally not-cute bra.  I mean, if you're going to be showing your bra in public (which you soooo shouldn't...), at least wear a cute one.  I guess she didn't know that yet, seeing as she probably only started wearing bras about two weeks ago.

I wanted someone to tell them to cut it out.  After all, there were little kids in the restaurant!  I think the workers were as amazed as I was, though, as I saw a few of them ogling the weirdness through the leaves of the fake plants placed around the dining area.  

I couldn't hear much of what the couple was saying throughout the night, but I did hear the girl sigh into his ear, "Isn't it amazing how fast eight months has gone by?"  They were at Olive Garden for their EIGHT MONTH ANNIVERSARY.  As someone who has been with the same guy for six and a half years now, eight months doesn't seem that long.  Especially since the guy I'm with had to wait three and a half years and a diamond ring before he got into my shirt, and this guy was up hers in public after eight months.  Ew!!!  I would have told them to get a room, but they're probably not old enough to reserve one.  Therefore they just used their local Olive Garden.  Lovely.

Basically, that was a really long story to make a really short point.  The point of this whole post is this:  DO NOT BE A SAME-SIDER.  No one wants to see that.  I won't be your friend if you do it.  Okay?  Okay.  Thanks.

Gospel Rap

If you've never been to a gospel rap concert, then...well...you're probably just like 99.9% of other people in the world.  I, however, have been to one.  A fellow fifth grade teacher at my school told me that his rap band, Unashamed to Put in Work, had a concert this Friday night.  He asked me to go on five different occasions over the past couple weeks, so I figured I'd better go.  I dragged my friend Elle along because I didn't want to go alone, and Rex refused to go.  I wasn't going to miss it, though, because I had to support LaMont.

First of all, there are some things you should know about this guy:  he's an ex-gangster.  Legit.  He's been shot twice.  He's done every drug you can name.   But then he found the LORD, and now he lives for Him.  It's actually a pretty cool story, but you can ask me about that some other time.  The point is that LaMont is now the leader of a Christian rap group, and I promised to go watch his concert.  Okay, now I think you're caught up.

So Elle and I walked into this old warehouse-building-turned-church to see his concert.  As soon as we walked in, I knew we were in for an interesting night.  The music was ridiculously loud, and the bass was turned up so high that it shook the ceiling.  There were colored strobe lights and disco balls casting pulsing rainbows of light onto everyone.  I had just walked into Club Jesus.

Here's something you should know about me:  I don't like clubs.  I've only been to one, and I hated it.  The music's too loud, people are crammed together, the air smells like sweat...I just don't like them.  Therefore the whole situation seemed unsettling.  Adding to the unease was the fact that there were only two white people at the event:  me and Elle.  I have nothing against black people, it's just that...well...how do I describe this? I'm SO WHITE.  Like, boarding-school-in-Connecticut-and-wear-pearls-to-dinner-every-night kind of white.  (That stuff isn't true, by the way.  I never went to school in Connecticut.  It's just an analogy).  So when I saw "gangsters for the Lord" (their term, not mine) raising the roof and showing off their hip hop moves, I didn't know what to do.  After all, there were three-year-olds there with better dance moves than I could ever hope to have.  I was not about to get out on the floor and attempt to "shake it" with members of the ethnic group that God has blessed with an innate sense of rhythm.  I ended up sitting in a chair in the back of the room with the old people and looking very awkward.

Even though I looked pretty awkward, I have to admit that the music was good.  I mean, if you're into rap.  I'm not really that into rap, but the stuff was catchy.  The lyrics I could understand were good, too.  Here is a small sampling of a couple different songs:

To God be the glory....END OF STORY!
To God be the glory...END OF STORY!
To God be the glory...END OF STORY!

Don't live in strife
Just be a Godly wife
Read Proverbs 31 - twice
Let it be a map fo yo life

Don't give the devil a STRONGHOLD!
If you're smoking the weed, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're hitting the sheets, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're doing drugs, he has a STRONGHOLD!
If you're holding a grudge, he has a STRONGHOLD!
Don't be givin' him a STRONGHOLD!

After a couple hours of this, Elle and I had sustained some temporary hearing loss so we decided to leave.  It's too bad, really, because we left just as a preacher dude was getting up to speak.  He sounded pretty good, one of those "Can I get an AMEN??" kind of speakers.  I don't even raise up my hands when we sing in church, so I really wasn't about to be the dancing in the aisle hallelujah kind of audience member.  It seemed rude to just sit there, though, so I left.  Maybe I can learn some moves from my black friends and then bust them out at LaMont's next concert.  Maybe...or maybe I'm busy that day.

Seriously, though - if you ever get a chance to go to a gospel rap concert, DO IT.  It will be the weirdest experience of your life, but I now want to be a gangster for the Lord.

To God be the glory...END OF STORY!