I'm not sure why it is...

...but since I've turned 50, I don't have so much of a problem telling people off as I used to. I was quite able to tell that nit wit boyfriend of my roommate's that he needed to get the hell out of my house. I know that was an extreme situation that HAD to be dealt with, but there was a time when I would have had a TERRIBLE time mustering up the courage to do that. This time, I was happy to do it.

When I was out of town recently, I stayed at my BEST FRIEND'S house. She and I have been friends since we were 13 and we're both 50 now. There isn't another person in the world that I've known so long without being related to them. I love her but she has this odd habit of telling you that you have to be someplace 2 hours earlier than you really have to be there. She does it with airport drop offs and things like that. I've always hated that about her but I usually just let it go.

The last Saturday that I was there, her daughter had a tai kwon do tournament and I was quite happy to go see the little doll. When I woke up, I started putting on my make up and fixing my hair when my friend said, "She won't care if you have make up on, we have to go." I actually felt guilty for putting on make up. But, I am a girl so I put a bit on and then we left to go to the tournament. My friend hurried me out the door by making me feel like a jerk for wanting to primp a bit like girls do. She doesn't...but most of us do. It's not an unreasonable thing to do.

When we got there, I got out of the car, hobbling on that stupid broken foot of mine, and headed for the gymnasium. It turned out to be at least a half a mile walk. By the time I got there, not only did my foot hurt, but my left knee was going out as well. She could have dropped me off but she didn't so I just forgot about it.

We sat in the gym watching the kids practice and after about a half an hour, I asked the little girl what time the tournament started. It didn't start for another hour and a half and I'd already been there for a half an hour. I was so mad that I walked outside to try to compose myself. All it did was make me think about it more and more until I got so angry that I walked back in and asked my friend to take me home. She wouldn't do that. So, I said, "I'll take a cab, just give me the keys to the house." She responded, "I'm not comfortable with that."

Can you believe that? After almost 40 years of me NOT stealing from her, she's "not comfortable" with me alone in her house. I wasn't going to be held hostage so I walked away through a town that I didn't know in the least. I was walking and walking until I couldn't walk anymore. I had no idea where I was going or in which direction I should be going. I really didn't even know where I was headed.

I finally found a payphone. (There aren't many of them around anymore!) I used all my change trying to call a cab. I finally got one. I was hurting and annoyed and he just kept asking me questions. He was trying to find out why I was in town, where I was staying and "How did I get that motel's phone number?"

I had gotten it from the phone book at the payphone but why did he need to know that? I finally just asked him, "What the hell different does it make?"

I guess he was a nosy bastard who had to know my situation. He took me to a motel that I had called from the cab driver's cell phone. The clerk told me that I couldn't check in until 11:30. By then it was about 10 AM. So, I just sat on the porch of an abandoned bar next door to the funky-ass motel until it was time to check in. The place was a flea bag motel...one that I wouldn't have stayed at unless I had no other choice.

Guess what happened? The guy wouldn't rent me a room. He had seen me walk over to the bar and I don't know what he thought of me, but it must have been bad. I didn't know what to do. I started walking back down the street with my right foot stabbing me and left knee burning.

I walked into a bunch of businesses and needed to use a phone but none of them let me so I had to keep looking for a payphone. At one point, I found a payphone but it just took my money without letting me call anyone. I went into a convenience store and by this time I had tears in my eyes. The guy felt badly enough to let me use his cell phone. I called a cab and had him take me back to my friend's house to get my stuff. She wasn't home. And to make matters worse, I tripped in her driveway getting out of the cab. My right arm and right knee took the hit.

I couldn't get my clothes so I called my daughter out of desperation. She called a friend of hers and asked her to come get me. The cab dropped me off at a restaurant where I could grab a bite to eat while I waited for my daughter's friend.

Then, we had to go back to my friend's house to get my clothes. As I was packing my stuff, my friend asked me, "What should I tell the kids?"

I said, "I'm sure you'll think of something derogatory to tell them." And I picked up my suit case and walked out. My friend has always been the Alpha friend in our small pack so for me to stand up for myself was quite a good feeling. It goes along with the, "I'm 50 and I'm a better bitch than I've ever been." I told one guy I was a bitch and he said, "Aww, you aren't a bitch!"

I said, "Yes I am...or I'm doing it wrong."

What can she tell her kids? That Mommy's best friend in the world can't be trusted in their home? That I might steal something? That I might have a party Saturday morning? How do you tell your kids that you don't trust your oldest and dearest friend? The only way to do it without looking like a jack ass is to make ME look like a jack ass. So, I'm sure that's what she'll do.

Anyway, my daughter's friends were great. They took me sightseeing and to some great places for food and stuff that I truly enjoyed. Then, they drove me to the airport...twice. They let me crash on their couch and even let me watch Family Guy for hours on their DVR thingie.

This friend of my daughter's is named Melanie. Melanie and Annie have been friends since 3rd grade. They're both lovely young ladies and Mel's father and I are both so proud of our girls. They're responsible and law abiding citizens.

Melanie's boyfriend was a great guy as well. He's certainly is one of the good ones. I'd say he's a lucky guy but Melanie is a pretty decent catch herself so they're both lucky.

I'm going to send this post to Mel so that she can know how much I appreciated her hospitality...and that of her boyfriend. Oh, and thanks to my daughter who saved me from 2 thousand miles away.

Mommy loves you!