I love Chipotle! I super pink puffy-heart Chipotle. A steak fajita burrito bol makes my entire week! Add guacamole and I'm in sheer bliss! But let me tell you what I don't love. I don't love the guy who decides that lunch time is the perfect moment to mop the floor in the Chipotle in German Village.
Listen, fella, look at my feet. See the cute, peep-toe red heels? Okay, now travel up. See me? Hey, my eyes are up here, buddy! Anyway, I'm clumsy on a good day. I'm thrilled to get through my day without tripping. So, let's do a little math to figure this out.
Chipotle Floor + Mopping = Slick Surface.
Slick Surface + Kim + Red Peep-Toe Heels = Disaster
Yes, I managed to make it out of the place unscathed. I stayed upright and didn't slip at all. Of course, that's only because I used the ledge to steady myself. If I crash in the Chipotle because of a wet floor, think I can get free Chipotle out of it? More than 1 or 2, I mean.
I noticed today that when I say the word "fabulous, " I use jazz hands. What is that about? And when did I start?
It's a beautiful day here in the capital city. Sun is shining, people are in a good mood. Spring has sprung, people. I think there should be mandatory work release on Fridays that are this beautiful. Can somebody get on this for me?
Have a great weekend, everybody!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I just frankly love the phrase Jazz Hands. It makes me laugh out loud every time I read it.
I hate that just as much as I hate grocery shopping on a Sunday morning when the stock boys are stocking the shelves with a billion people around. Shouldn't they do that on a Sunday/Saturday night?
Jazz Hands...
OMG! Is there any chance that we are twins separated at birth? Clumsy - check!
Jazz hands - check!
Love for guac - check! check!
Post a Comment