Pick a Little, Talk a Little

As mentioned in yesterday's post, Mr. B and I spent Saturday knocking around his hometown. Knocking around can make one VERY hungry, so we decided to try a local BBQ that's known to have great food.

We were seated, had a cute little waitress with a great attitude, ordered our food, talked, and checked out our surroundings.
Well... sitting kitty corner from us were 4 ladies, laughing and enjoying their food. They weren't dressed up as some in the establishment were (some church convention of some sort), but they were certainly respectable. Something, however, caught my eye. One of the ladies had a pony tail in her hair and stuck in the pony tail was....

no... surely I was seeing wrong.
I nudged Mr. B "See the lady in the blue shirt with the pony tail. Does she have stuck in her hair what I THINK she has stuck in her hair?"

He glanced.... and confirmed... that yes, indeed.. this lady did have one of these stuck in her hair:


(just in case you can't tell, it's one of those floss picks)

Oh yes... in her hair.

Yeah, that creeped me out a bit, but I just chose to ignore and enjoy my time with Mr. B.

At last our food arrived - I ordered BBQ, salad and roasted corn on the cob. It was all SO good. As I gnawed on the corn, Mr. B asked how it was. I laughed and said "It's good, and I'll be able to enjoy it for a long time cause it's totally getting stuck between my teeth. I need that lady's..." then I looked up to the lady with the floss pick in her hair.

It was gone.

I leaned over to Mr. B "Oh Sweet Jesus please tell me that thing isn't where I think it is."

Um... yep.

Apparently she had the corn too.