....are my man-hands. Ever since college, when my best friend so delicately brought them to my attention, I knew they were going to be a problem. (She has man hands too, just for the record.) I've discovered it's best to just come to terms with it and move on.
I do my best to keep my nails painted, or I give myself the ole French Manicure every once in a while to tone down the rampant testosterone that seems to course through my digits....but I've been slacking off lately.
Last night a customer at the bar even commented on them.
Customer: "You have big hands."
Me: "I know. And you can leave."
Customer: "Are you serious?"
Me: "Were you serious when you said I have big hands?"
Customer: "Well...you do."
Me: "Yeah, I was serious when I told you to get out."
Now, to be fair, it was closing time anyways.
Let this be a lesson....only people also burdened with the dreaded man-hands syndrome should ever comment on a fellow man-hander's extremeties.
Back off guys.....sorry, I'm taken.
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2 comments:
I have man hands AND sasquach feet - ugh - I feel your pain my sister from another mister
ahahaha - meesh, i love you.
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