Sunday Morning, FleaMarkets & 18 Wheelers

I haven't worked or blogged much in the past couple of weeks. I actually can't tell you what the hell I've been doing for the past couple of weeks, as everything has been pretty uneventful and quiet.

Not that I'm complaining. I like my uneventful, drama-free exisitence. Boring and quiet is good. Drama and angst are of the devil. The only drama I was in tune to dealing with was the shit I was giving Big T for not giving me any Saturday night. The nerve.

This past weekend was full of driving around aimlessly and playin poker. Me and Big T woke up at the buttcrack of dawn on Sunday, way before the chickens even. He decided that we should go ridin. So... up, showered, made-up, dressed and out the door... turn-key job performed in like 35 minutes. Not bad considering I AM NOT a very enthusiastic morning person.

First stop. Breakfast. McDonald's. Clinton, TN.
Now I'm not sure if the manager bitch working the cash register and taking orders was pissed because:
A- it was Sunday morning before the chickens were up and her ass was at work...
B- she didn't get any Saturday night, but from all appearances she had been rode hard and put up wet...
C her district manager was combing through her files with a magnifying glass...
D-I was there at an ungodly hour, lookin like a million bucks...

Whatever the reason, she had a friggin corn-cob wedged up her ass and it was apparent that she didn't want to be there. Friendly McDonalds' greeting? I think not.

Now, I don't deny being a complete and total bitch. It's part of my genetic make-up. As a result, I do not have a job where it is required that I be friendly while on the clock. I can be pissed off and bitchy if I want to, but I'm not serving a Big Breakfast to the church crowd on Sunday morning either.

Second stop. TN's Largest Fleamarket, Crossville, TN. (1.5 hours west of home)
Largest, my ass. It might be the largest fleamarket spot, but there wasn't a damn thing to be seen. But, my Big T is a die hard fleamarket junkie. I'm not so much, especially the outside kind, but I can take one for the team when I have to.

It was cold, it was wet, it was NOT fleamarket friendly weather. There were, at best, 10 stalls of shit open for business. Ten. Out of 120 or more booths.
But it was ok. We were out riding and I found 3 pairs of cutsie foo-foo socks to add to my overflowing sock drawer.

So, we leave Crossville. Buh-bye. By this time it's nearly 10:30 EST, we decided to drive to Sevierville for the other big ass fleamarket.

On the way back we pass a huge convoy of 18-wheelers. That is a bad-ass sight when there's a line of semi's as far as you can see. I started talking about a friend of mine that calls them 16-wheelers. They are not, 16-wheelers, they are 18-wheelers for fuck sake, call them what they are.

Big T is amused by this chatter. "Count the wheels, baby. You do realize that the trailer only has 8 wheels and that the rig actually holds the others, right?"

*blink* "My argument, Big T, isn't where the damn wheels are or what they are attached to. My arguement is the total number of wheels under that bad-mama-jama."

Finally, we get to Sevierville (+/- 1 hour east of home)
This was fine with me. This fleamarket is is heated and indoors. My kind of fleamarket. Plus they have cute little dogs and those sinful roasted cashews, makes the place a winner in my book.

I fell in love a little shit-zoo immediately. Big T is a poop and wouldn't buy it for me. I'm still holding that against him and am not sure when I will let the whole thing drop. I think if I play it right, I can get maximum mileage out of my bitchin' about not getting the puppy and end up with the puppy at the same time.

In addition to the puppy fiasco. I found 10 MORE pairs of foo-foo socks, a wire scooper number for my FryDaddy and a cute little shot-glass measuring cup that you use instead of measuring spoons. Very nice.

What is life, but to make it interesting for my hubby?


Jay said...

hahaha .. a drama-free existence unless you come across a cute puppy you want. Then .. it's on baby! ;-)

Mike said...

Well at least you did something worthwhile. I am proud to say that I did absolutely nothing...and it was all that I could do.

Chuck said...

Isn't that Crossville flea market where there was like a bad accident years ago and people were killed? I seem to remember something like that happening back in the 90's.

Fast food employees and corn cobs don't mix well!

Nosjunkie said...

you go fight for the right to your satuday night nookie hunny its your right.
why the hell is this place pink am I on anti depressants again

Sugar Queens Dream said...

I'm so f*cking glad I stopped by this morning. I laughed so hard I had to go take a shower! Thanks I needed one.
Hugs babe~~

Inarticulate Fumblings said...

Flea markets are a living hell for me. Like seriously, do people actually buy things like the wine bottles melted flat to make "cheese trays?" How about the people that sit at those booths the entire day? Is there a high demand for 1998-2002 cel phone chargers?

Oh, and the McDonald's manager. Maybe she was such a bitch because she woke up and realized she was a McDonald's manager.

Anonymous said...

Lordy be woman you had me laughing so hard!

Anonymous said...

16 wheeler's I almost fainted at that....:):):)..Man I have been down through Clinton a few times saw the signs for the flea market but never stopped..The Macdonald's Managers problem was that she wasn't ridden and put up wet by the right man....:):):);)

Olga, the Traveling Bra said...

Dang! I can hardly WAIT to come spend the weekend with you guys!

But my favorite part?...your post label...No Blowjob For You Tonight!! Arg-hahahahahaha!

Diva said...

Jay, I've never denied being a spoiled brat or acting like one when I don't get my way. It's one of my genetic flaws.

Mike, eh, I suppose I could chalk it up to exercise since my ass hasn't walked more than 25 steps at one time in a while.

Chuckie, I never heard of any accident, then again I'd never heard of that fleamarket either until he drug my butt up there.

Lee, still fighting, girl!

Judy, I'm glad you popped by. It's my holy duty to make fun of my sorry state in life =)

IF, hello doll!! Welcome home (ya lucky boy) Fleamarkets used to be kinda cool, now it seems like its one big nasty closeout center for crap.

PP, laughing is awesome as long as you don't tinkle at the same time

Robert, I agree. A good roll in the hay would make even a McDonald's manager happy to be awake at the butt crack of dawn on a Sunday morning. I'll tell her next time Big T drags me in there.

Olga, I can't wait for your visit either! You'll have the opportunity to witness the lack of blowjob first hand... that and Dolly's boobs!

~Fathairybastard~ said...

There's ahuge flea market up near Arlington called Traders Village. Got a great dog there in the early 90s.