Ghetto Nuns and Margarita Handshakes


On our way to Wal-Mart yesterday and after leaving Applebee’s where one Pontilicious had several Happy Hour margaritas (have you ever seen the size of those puppies?!), we stopped at a convenience store in a rather – unpleasant? – part of town. This resulted in the following conversation:

PONTILICIOUS: Did you really lock the doors when I went inside?

ME: Yes!

PONTILICIOUS: Why? I was right there (points to inside of store). Literally, feet from you. Only that glass window was between us.

ME: I don’t care. This is not the best area of town. I didn’t want someone car jacking us or taking one of the kids.

PONTILICIOUS: If anyone had approached this vehicle, I would have been out here in seconds and the outcome for them would not have been good.

CADEN: Really? You’re a little tipsy, which is why mom is driving. You’d end up pulling out your knife, swiping at them and stabbing yourself instead.

PONTILICIOUS: I can’t believe you locked the door. This part of town isn’t all that bad.

ME: Not all that bad? Graffiti is the primary landscaping element. There’s a shopping cart parked next to that fire hydrant. And I swear I just saw two nuns greet each other with a ghetto handshake. This IS a bad part of town.

PONTILICIOUS: What the hell is a ghetto handshake?

ME: You know. Where two people clasp hands at an angle, shoulder tap one another and then give a little snap at the end.

PONTILICIOUS: And two nuns just did that?

ME: Yes. Over there near that cathedral building.

PONTILICIOUS: It’s called a church. And you’re the one who didn’t drink!


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