Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Stories from the Indy 500: Real Police Women of the Race

After our dinner with the drivers Sat. night, we went out. And when I say we went out, I mean we were OUT. First stop, Ike & Jonesies (complete with a pin up doll characterture on their sign so I knew we were in for a treatsie) where the DJ played an abundance of Michael Jackson. If you know anything about me, you know this makes me so happy. And how it makes me dance. And how it brings back memories of synchronized swimming. Next stop, some Tiki Bar with lots of tiki pole trees. If you know anything about me, you know I love a good tiki pole. somehow though, I missed the cage at this place. Third time is always a charm and our third stop was the Steak and Shake. We were covered, head to toe, in sweat. Some of us were wearing see through clothes by this point. Some of us had mysterious bruises and scratches from a run in with the cement. Several of us had really sore feet. And all of us were hungry. Because I believe in being sanitary at all times, I had removed my shoes and walked from the Tiki Bar Place to the Steak and Shake. Upon arrival, some woman barked (and I mean she literally barked at me) "Put your shoes on ma'am." I said OK and continued to walk. I mean, I was just going to take them off again at the table and after so many hours of wearing such high heels, my feet needed a rest (I was on vacation and it's not like my feet hadn't earned it). She then screamed at me across the restaurant "If you do not put your shoes back on, I am going to have to kick you out." This gave me pause. I mean, let's think about this. Kick me out of STEAK AND SHAKE? Really? Really. She was clearly angry that she had been dispatched to the Steak and Shake that night (you know you're a for real cop when...) and she also had been watching the Real Policewomen of Broward County because she was so hard. Clearly. I've always secretly wanted to get in some serious trouble with the law yet I always manage to get kicked out of the most ridiculous places that don't exactly prove what a G I really am. And, since I don't want to be mistaken for Britney Spears, ever (you'd be surprised how often it happens), I wasn't sure that getting kicked out of the Steak and Shake was really something I wanted to do that night. So I just did the adult thing and put my shoes back on. But, for the record, in case you were wondering, my feet still hurt.

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