Just creepy

Today my friend/co-worker Lindsay H. and I had an appointment with a linen company. We were looking at samples and getting a price quote for the linens at Lindsay's wedding reception. We were both familiar with the company and the owner since 1) Lins signed them as an advertiser in our book and 2) They are one of the 4 vendors that do linens at our wedding facility. We know that they have a good product at a good price.

In hindsight we should have known or had an inkling what we were walking into having dealt with/met with their staff before. But even with that, nothing could have prepared us for what we experienced.

Their "office" is in an industrial shopping center, if you will. Next door to some sort of chemical mixing company. I was a bit thrown for a loop when we walked to the front door and were greeted with, not a door but a baby gate. And walking towards us, was Trailer Park Barbie. Complete with a ratty bun on the top of her head, a lime green tank top, dirty jean shorts that had a whole in the thigh, and house shoes. OK, I can deal with that. The baby gate opens and we walk into HELL. No I take that back - I'm not sure the devil would hang in a place that trashy. I'm not sure what color the carpet ever was because it is so dirty that it might be pink or it might be brown. There were linens piled high on tables, and I'm pretty certain we never saw the actual top of the desk.

A cute little dog and a gray cat ran around - the dog biting at Lindsay's toes under the desk and the cat trying to get in the chair with me. I think Trailer Park Barbie (now to be referred to as TPB) could sense my discomfort with the cat in chair, or perhaps it was my screaming that clued her in, and she removed the cat from the office. In addition to the animals TPB had her very cute 2 year old there, who's feet look like she had spent 2 weeks walking in mud, sporting dirty pj's, and a dirty diaper.

** Do you hear the Deliverance music - battle of the banjos - playing???

Needless to say there was lots of kicking, hitting, & pinching by Lindsay and I when no one was looking. ESPECIALLY when the owner and her daughter TPB got into a hollering match across the building about - and I quote, "Learning how to plug the damn credit card machine by yourself".

When we left the only thought I had was how badly I wanted to for sure wash my hands and even possibly take a shower too. And then I had this whole thought that I felt like maybe a flea had jumped on me and as soon as I got home I needed to steal the dog's flea dip and douse my head in it. FYI - I didn't give myself a flea dip, but I did wash my hair.

I don't know if we'll actually use them for Lindsay's linens but I do know that I will NEVER EVER try to go over to meet them at their office again if at all possible.

Why oh why must people live that way????