Husband seems to be MIA this morning. But the wife is here. Better, she is on the phone and talking loud enough for me to hear.
A reference made concerning “mom” leads me to believe she is talking to her sister.
Her car is “A piece of shit” that is being repaired. As the conversation continues, it becomes evident that some body work is being done on her Mercedes. She hit something and is angry that the body work is not covered by the warranty, so the “thieves” are going to use this as an excuse to raise the insurance cost. Her husband is being a coward and not standing up to them. Evidently, calling to yell at the insurance company would make them pay for it without raising the premium.
I love this woman.
There is a certain glow that surrounds that level of arrogance and delusion. As she has stated in the past, in the mornings, she feeds and dresses the twins, then drops them off at school. All of this is done with, I assume, her snarly attitude and sweat pants. Not even the hot girl yoga pants that are popular these days. Her sweat pant of choice is the thick gray sweat pants they wore at muscle beach 20 years ago. And a t-shirt without, unless I am blind, no bra. This is a woman who has birthed twins less than a decade ago and is sporting DD’s.
Her entire manner is that of someone that is tired of your shit and thinks you are a moron. She treats everyone the same way. Cashier, barrista, people at the cream and sugar kiosk, and, of course, her husband.
Where is he, anyway? I don’t know that I have ever seen her without him, despite the fact that he must dream of being without her. A funny thought occurred to me. Some men fantasize about other women during sex with their wives. This guy must push himself up and over the top with thoughts of her losing her voice for a week or being away from the house for extended times.
She just told her sister that their mother is not able to live alone and should either go live with the sister or go to a home somewhere. Quote “Not close enough that I feel bad that I don’t go see her every week”.
This woman is the devil.
I have been accused of fabricating the entire “Starbucks couple” as a work of fiction.
The fact that anyone thinks I am a good enough writer to make this level of wicked up makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.