Let Them Eat Cake With Chopsticks!
May 7th  - Let Them Eat Cake With Chopsticks!
Friday morning was uneventful for I had too many things on my plate to try and have fun outside of the apartment. Besides, I had plans for later tonight to go out with the girls (the main group I work with the organization) to have Mexi-Hawaiian food on Taraval. Why waste my energy on other things when knowing the girls', I was going to be tired out from the laughter and smiling. I have known the girls' (which was originally six girls, but one left due to personal reasons, making it five) for almost a year now. We spent countless hours together whether it was at work, after work, in my car (I drive the lot of them back to campus since a few of them have classes after work or need to take a few buses back to their place of residence) and we have become a family unit. In fact, I consider them sisters rather than good friends.
Now, nothing much happens for the next few hours. I am busy composing a few articles for this lovely website, trying to finish eighty percent of my two final essays to turn in a few days and generally cleaning up the apartment. The following day, I would have familia members over and I did not want them thinking the apartment was a pig sty because a few of us forgot to pick up little things here and there. Though when the clock started to get close to 7 o'clock, the time the group of us would meet at Taraval, I started to get myself ready. Usually during the weekdays, I enjoy dressing down especially with the weather. I might wear long-sleeved shirts or v-neck sweaters depending on how it looks to be outside the apartment window. I can dress up in heels or down in Converse sneakers.
Since this was going to be a nice dinner and it might end up into a girls' night out, I dressed up. Not in a leather skirt and corset, of course, but in a pair of denim jeans and a reddish-pink tank top. I wanted to look good, darling. Mauve nail polish on my fingers and toes, earrings in the six piercings I have (three on each side), eyeshadow, lip gloss, and the nice jacket I bought from Old Navy. I have worn the jacket three times which each occasion was something new. I woke the jacket the first time to the funeral of my dear friend who passed away too young. The second was for my birthday with the roommates. The third would be dinner with the girls at Taraval. Each different experiences with various emotions and memories attached to the jacket.
Once I was finished dressing, the knock at the apartment came at the door. It was one of two of the girls' who would be hitching a ride with moi to dinner. I had no plans to drink considering I was driving and my car can get selective on who it wants to drive it. So far, only the familia has been able to drive the car. I never let any of the girls' drive because of insurance reasons and I am an antsy driver. If there are ways I can get to a location quicker or if I want to take my sweet time, I want to be the one driving. Thankfully, none of the girls' mind I drive though they soon found out that if I go over fifty and turn a corner, it will most likely tip over. Never had I tried this because for one important matter, I want to live but the second because I like my car too much to wreck it and end up having to take the bus everywhere.
After P. met up with Aa and I, we got into my car and headed off to see the rest of the group. The drive to it was quick, took five minutes since I live close by Taraval. Parking was easy to find on Taraval especially once meter time hours were over. I parked my car and made sure I was close to the curb while P. and Aa. got out of the car. Admittedly, I am horrible at parallel parking no matter how much space I have in between cars. I can easily park into spots that are side by side but next to the curb? Not going to happen without a bit of maneuvering, shifting back and forth and maybe even putting the tire on the curb. The day I learn how to parallel park is the day the world will have another drive that is not taking twenty minutes to position next to the curb. What? That was the longest it took me to park when I first started driving two years ago. Not to worry, I have yet to get into a car accident and I am knocking on wood to keep it that way.
Making sure the car was locked up and I did not leave any valuables in the car, Aa., P. and I went off down the street. We met up with T, the Head Boss Lady to make our way to the other side of Taraval. What a riot. The Mexi-Hawaiian place on Taraval had gone out of business. None of us had thought to call the place to see if it could hide the ice cream cake in their fridge let alone if they were still even in business. There went my idea of ordering a carne asada plate and enjoying the frijoles with a side of Mexican rice.
Still, the girls' and I were determined to find a place to eat that was on Taraval. Of course, we also needed to find a place to store the ice cream cake before our first Boss got to see it. It would ruin the big surprise if she saw the cake and realized what was going down. Thankfully, Aa. covered the front part of the container to her chest and stood behind each of us when the first Boss came around. The official Boss was there but she was sniffling a storm thanks to her trying to get over a flu like illness. Thanks to the San Francisco weather, my immune system is all over the place with whether I am hot one minute or freezing cold the next. Thanks Bay Area, thanks.
After ten to fifteen minutes of walking up and down Taraval, there were a few options of restaurants to eat with the girls'. I joked there were a few bars the group could hit but then I remembered half of the group is under the drinking limit. Half of us are under the drinking limit and only one of us in the whole group brought a car to San Francisco to get to and from the various neighborhoods. That person was me and I had no problem giving rides to the girls' after work. There were times it did get in the way of singing off pitch or getting on the phone with a submissive to let him or her know what I wanted them to do tonight. Still, it was a bonding experience especially when a few of us talked about favorite movies, shoes, celebrities and so on.
When we did find a suitable place for everyone to agree on, the group and I took over a table by the front window. Each of us sat down, removed out jackets and took a breath. Outside, the wind picked up and I was in no mood to freeze my lovely bottom off. Right away, it felt like this was going to be a great party. Considering the fact most of us act like children especially since we work with children, it was easy to get a good banter going. At first, there were a few pauses but not all conversations between us are going to get a hundred miles a second. Sometimes, we talk over each other and other times we listen intently to the other person to have their two cents. Myself, it is hard to try and stop me from saying anything. I whip out comments and subjects like I crack the dam whip on a submissive.
Honestly, the food was fine but it was nothing that I would want to eat again if I had the choice. There was fried tofu, Mongolian chicken, steamed broccoli, some type of pork soup and water to go around. I know there were more plates but I merely ate the Mongolian chicken and a bit of rice. My appetite was on the Oreo's cookie and cream ice cream cake that was in the back of the restaurant. The first Boss had no idea as she dug into the food that there was a Pepto Bismo-looking cake waiting for her. I think she knew there was a cake to be served but did not know what was placed on top of the cake. While I enjoyed using chopsticks to pick up the spicy chicken, my heart and stomach focused on the cake hidden away.
While waiting for the cake, the girls' and I talked, laughed and took photographs of one another. Since R. brought her huge camera, Aa., got a hold of the camera and started to take pictures all over the place. There are a few photographs with my mouth half open either laughing or trying to get the piece of chicken into my mouth. A few are of the girls smiling at the camera or making funny faces. Considering the bunch of us, we are all clowns when it comes to hamming it up to the cameras. There are even pictures of the demolished ice cream cake which ended up sloshing all over the place due to the heat of our conversations. Burn.
We talked about the end of our work contract and what are plans were for the summer and upcoming months. One of the girls' is going out of the country and I love her to death. I have come to see her as an older sister for she is three years older than I, but I am taller than her by about two inches. She is the tiniest female I have befriended and even I tell her I plan to feed her to make sure she is getting all of the essential food groups. Still, she looks great for twenty-four and I thought she was eighteen when we first met to be on the same working team. That woman will never look a day over thirty when she is truly in her sixties, lucky female.
The girls' and I enjoyed the rest of dinner with cake, saying a few things to let one another know it was going to be a fun summer. I plan to stay in touch with them all. Hell, I do adore my lovely girls' and plan to stalk them in my own ways over the summer. Besides, what is a girl to do without her clique?
Part of the Miss Marguerite & The City