Thursday, November 02, 2006

Women Without Taste

I went to a girls' only wine tasting last night called Women With Taste. I'm not totally sure why I thought that it would be a good idea. I like wine, but I hate women. Joanna chose to point this out AFTER we had paid. They limited admission to 150 women, which is about 120 too many bitches for a place the size of Benz.
The good thing was that there were about 50 wines and several tasty appetizers. The bad thing was that these stupid women would get their wine and stand there discussing it and blocking the table while people like me had to elbow their way to the front. Then those bitches would have the gall to give me dirty looks for pushing past. When new appetizers were brought out, people would swarm upon them like frat boys on a roofied, passed out sorority girl. People even started grabbing things off the trays before the poor employees could set them down. When new bacon-wrapped shrimp were put out, chaos ensued. A stampede was just barely averted.

My old Life Skills teacher was there. I ran into her at a tasting about a month ago. Bitch got me grounded when I was in sixth grade, because she gave me a C in "work habits." My parents didn't understand that I was getting an A in the class. I got ungrounded when they found out I had over 95%, but it was too late because I had already missed Leslie's slumber party. Everyone who was anyone was there. I think that was the turning point in my adolescent popularity. I probably would've been Homecoming Queen had I gone. Anyway, then I got re-grounded when my parents discovered that a C in Work Habits meant I was mouthy and passed notes during class. When Mrs. Daly talked to me at the last wine tasting, I was too much in awe that she remembered me and that she was nice to me to tell her how much she ruined my life. After a few minutes, I was like, "Hey, there's Joanna Groff! Go talk to her!" and she did. Problem solved. Well, not totally solved, because she totally sold me out and told Joanna that I was the one that had pointed her out.

Long story short, I will probably not be a Woman With Taste next year. Instead, I will attend the Women Sitting on the Recliner With a Full Glass of Wine in One Hand and the Remote in the Other Hand. It'll be fabulous.

Even though I will not be attending, I'd like to help Benz out with their little party. Here are some possible names for next year's event:
Women Without Class
Women With Bad Hair
Women With The Manners of a Wild Boar
Women With Grabbyhands
Women With No Business Eating All That Cheese