I seriously have to stop putting my foot in my mouth. Last week my best friend and I went out to dinner. While sitting there, I openly spoke about my hatred for mustaches. I probably said the words “mustache” and “hideous” a good ten times before my friend eventually bugged her eyes out and nodded her head for me to turn around.
Of course there was an old man with a mustache sitting all by himself, undoubtedly listening to our entire conversation. Death.
“Why didn’t you stop me?!” I yelled under my breath (although at this point why even bother).
“I tried to kick you, but your legs are so freaking tiny!” she yell-whispered back.
Here’s a tip for all of you who dine with me in the future: If I’m loudly talking about someone that fits the description of a person nearby, say, I don’t know, “SHUT UP!” and change the subject. None of these wuss kicking attempts!
This pitiful escapade reminded me of the time I bashed vegetarians for ten minutes before ending my rant with “The only people I hate more than vegetarians are vegans. Who the hell would be a vegan?!” The only other woman in the room besides the girl I was talking to raised her hand. As her arm rose, my jaw dropped. If that’s not a FML moment, what is?
I’m going to try and speak more softly because one day I’m gonna piss off the wrong mustached vegan and get my little ass kicked. They’re grumpy as it is, with only eating nuts and berries and having most of it get stuck in their facial hair.
Have you ever put your foot in your mouth? What happened?