What Is Wrong With People Outside Of New York???? (And Not Just!!!!!!!!!!!!)

                      Darlings, I am telling you, the weekend started on such a relaxing note.  Our Friday night bus ride to swinging Norristown, Pennsylvania went smoothly, despite a forty minute traffic delay on the  New Jersey Turnpike, we arrived fresh and rested, and then got up the next morning, not only to visit my father, and celebrate my sister's birthday, but to do a number of necessary errands.   One of these was to stop at the Exton Mall, where they have a Macy's, and get me a pair of shoes.

                       We succeeded, but what hell we went through.  Now, you know, girls, that we come all the way from New York, and being New Yorkers, we expect to be treated in a certain way.  Long before I ever moved to New York, when I was still--oh, my God!!!!!!!!--prepubescent, darlings-- it was "Newwwwww  Yawwwwwwwwwwwk is where I'd rathuhhhhhhhhhhhthuuuh stay!," which I learned from Eva Gabor and "Green Acres.

                          So, we marched into the shoe department to make our purchase.  Which is when all hell broke lose.  There was no place to sit down, but a group of entitled Third World shoppers, had placed all their purchases there, while they went off to do something else. And the management just let them do it. Which not only calls the management into question, but the shoppers, who should be packed off and shipped off on a slow boat to China, or back to whatever slum dog hell they came from, if they cannot behave properly here.  Finally seated, we tried to get customer service.  The one person we got, who looked annoyed at us, grudgingly went off to look for my shoe size, returned with a box, threw it at Monsieur, as if to say, "Here! You take care of it!"

                          Excuse me??????  I demand service!  Bitch!  Before I could move, Monsieur got up to reprimand the gentleman, and while he was doing so, this piece of White Trash Bitch, with uncombed, and I am not sure washed, but cheaply dyed, red hair, showing only how trashy she is, begins to insinuate herself into the argument, taking up for the salesman, who she said was servicing her kids first. Now, I did not hear this, but from what I was told, the minute Monsieur countered back to her, she countered back with that word that many straight woman throw back when confronted by a man--"faggot!"   As soon as that was clear to me, I screamed at her, calling her a fucking bitch (which she was) and, had my sister and father not been with us, I would have pursued this as an attempted hate crime!  She needed a good smack across the face, or to have it  enclosed, like Barbara Steele in the opening of "Black Sunday."

                         Whether or not we were faggots--in this case, it is true, and we say it with pride!!!!!!!!--why do some women feel that is the only word they can hurl in an argument, and do it so freely?????????
And then they want to talk about misogyny?????????  My ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                            The funny thing about all this is the place was so incompetent, that, while the woman was screaming for "Security!" and we waited, no one came!

                             As the battle broke up, and we dispersed, and walked through the store, I had an idea of what was going on.  Sections of the store were empty, it looked like the store was going under, and no one gave a shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                               But why take it out on us?????????  We are New Yorkers, and we demand THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Just as all my girls should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                Oh, one last thing about Trash Bitch's children--they will all grow up to be morbidly obese, living off nothing but Hamburger Helper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!