The best medicine (?) (…) (!)

Whenever I’m in an awkward situation, I burst out laughing.
When I’m in a situation where someone is being pushy or extremely outgoing, I burst out laughing.
One time I was at the Burger King drive-thru, and I ordered my meal, only I forgot to specify a part of my order. You know, I wanted it my way. When I got to the window, before paying mind you, I said, “I’m sorry, I wanted a milkshake instead of a drink. Can I still replace it?”
Napoleon Dynamite behind the counter says, in complete seriousness, “You could have, but you missed your chance!” I couldn’t contain myself, and I busted out laughing. It probably would have been a little awkward, so I’m glad that’s my knee-jerk reaction.
I was at dinner the other night with Melissa, Traci, and Laura, all of which are hot chicks, but Laura is stop-traffic gorgeous. Our waiter was reduced to the drooling pit of testosterone that all males are and would NOT leave the table. Here we were, trying to eat, trying to chat. Hell, we’re four girls at a table — I’m sure we were trying to talk about periods and the cutest boys. And here comes Loser McChotchkie’s, magnetized to our table, doing (crappy) soccer tricks with our napkins and making lame jokes about our cheesy fries.
I tried to be polite at first. I came late to dinner, and the three girls had been putting up with this guy for the previous half hour and were pretty sick of him. So after I got my order, I half wondered why I was the only one willing to make eye-contact with him. I did want him to leave me alone, but I pretty much want everyone to leave me alone and I fake it so I don’t look like a bitch or get cheese spit fries. When he didn’t leave for the better part of 10 minutes, it started to get pretty funny that A) He was obviously hanging around to get Laura to notice him, and B) Not only was Laura not even acknowledging his presence, now both Traci and Melissa were pointedly facing the other direction, which was a wall. And I was laughing hysterically at this poor guy.
I felt bad, but we were sort of in a place of eating, and our bringer of food was sort of not allowing us to do so.
Amusing side note: my friends and I don’t actually talk about periods, however, I *did* have this amusing interaction with Melissa after thinking she said the word “borscht,” which is a beet-based Russian soup.
Me: Ew, borscht!
Melissa: I didn’t say “borsht,” I said “abortion.”
Me: Oh, that I’m fine with.
I’m saying all this because Justin is currently shopping for a car, and I have been laughing in people’s faces a lot lately. I know it’s a punchline and a stereotype for a reason, but I still cannot believe how pushy car salesmen are. I sometimes can’t believe how stern Justin is in not taking their shit and telling them so, in not so many words.
Anyway, I can’t possibly accompany Justin to any more dealerships because I’m sure word has gotten around about the crazy girl who bursts into hysterics whenever a price is quoted on a car or someone mentions a “minimum” monthly payment.

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