A Tale of Two Condiments

12 Jan

I think it’s safe to say that when females are newly single, they are prone to whacky, insane, batshit behavior. You can judge them for it, but don’t, because all females have been there at some point. Unless you’ve never hooked up, in which case, God will send you straight to heaven. Or maybe He will tell you to get out more. Almost all of my friends have gone through this stage, even I have. But one of my girlfriend’s emotions got so out of control, that shit hit the fan…only the “shit” I speak of is actually a condiment, not feces. For the sake of this story, I’ll call her “Barbie”.

So Barbie had been in a relationship with the same guy for a good amount of high school. They had their ups and downs, but their downs were happening more and more frequently the longer they stayed together. So after years of being together, then some on and off craziness, Barbie and her man broke up. Barbie was a wreck. She didn’t know how to be single after being with someone for so long. She was just looking for her Ken, but met a lot of douchebags in between. Lucky for Barbie though, she has a lot of friends. And a lot of those friends had boyfriends who had friends for her to mingle with. So Barbie set out on her quest for Mr. Right. Barbie’s sister, Skipper, invited Barbie along to hangout with her boyfriend and his friends. Barbie set her sights on a guy named “Dick”, and Dick seemed interested in her. Barbie was really into Ken and was happy to have a rebound to get her mind off of her ex. Barbie and Ken saw eachother a few times before Dick’s true colors began to show, AKA: Dick was a dick. 

One evening, Barbie went over to Skipper’s boyfriend’s place to hangout with Skipper. Dick was there (he lived with Skipper’s boyfriend). For whatever reason, they were watching some weird show in which Asians go through obstacle courses (maybe the version of the show “Wipeout” played in Asia? I don’t know). Something happened in the show that had to do with fish (I STILL don’t know). Dick hears the word fish, or sees a fish, and calls Barbie a dead fish in front of everyone in the room. Barbie was pissed, and rightfully so, since Dick had been acting shady towards Barbie, and blowing her off. Barbie retaliated by telling Dick he was tiny, then pouring her beer all over him. Dick left the room. Ha, Barbie had won that battle. Not so fast, next thing Barbie knew, she was being attacked by Dick, who had snuck back in the room. Dick wasn’t just attacking Barbie, he was smothering her face with ketchup.

Barbie was furious. She chased Dick upstairs to his room with ketchup all over her face. Dick got to his room, slammed the door, and obviously locked it. Barbie doesn’t fuck around. She wiped the ketchup out of her eyes, then headed back down to the fridge to get the entire bottle of ketchup, plus a BJ’s sized jug of salsa. She ran back upstairs where she found Dick’s room empty. The sucka had thought the coast was clear for him to leave the room. Without thinking twice, and ketchup all over her face like it was blood from war, Barbie lit the place up with ketchup, focusing on Dick’s bed and pillows. There was ketchup all over the walls and bed and floor when she was finished. Then she opened up the salsa and dumped it out onto Dick’s rug and his Proactive kit. 

Barbie knew she had to get the fuck out of Dick’s house. She made a run for it to her friend’s car parked outside. When she looked behind her, she saw that Dick was chasing her with an opened industrial sized tub of mayo. He was angry. She booked it faster, dove into the car, and locked the doors and peaced out back to Quincy where she belonged. It was the revenge that Adele had always dreamed of, but instead wrote 54 sad songs.

There wasn’t much of a point to this story, other than I thought it was awesome. Especially since Barbie had ketchup all over her face and probably looked like a psychopath on a rampage. I guess the point is just to warn men: don’t fuck with a woman who has been wronged in the past. Damaged women will damage your acne kits, mattress, and all of your shit. A month or two after the ketchup incident, Barbie and I were in Boston and she mustard’ed a van that was parked behind her, convinced the driver had keyed her car. I don’t even know if her car was keyed or not. And I don’t know why she would think it was the driver of the van behind her that was responsible. But it’s just another example of how you should not fuck with an emotionally unstable woman. 

There’s good news. Barbie is mentally stable now, and finally found her Ken. And he doesn’t give her a reason to whip out her condiments on him. He also doesn’t need Proactive. Treat women like the princesses they are…even if they’re princesses with ketchup smeared all over their mugs. Thank you to the real Barbie, you know who you are. You are only one of my girlfriends who would let me tell her most psychotic story on this fucking website. Bill Cosby gives you his Pudding Pop Good Sport of 2012 Award for this.


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