"family"

I'm not really sure how many of you know what this means. I sure didn't when I first heard it, but, let me assure you, I learned quickly.

My family, some friends of my parents, and a friend of mine (who shall take upon the name of Jim) took a 3 day trip to Branson, MO. On the way back to Arkansas my father decided to make a pitstop in Eureka Springs (very, very bad decision). *Eureka Springs is a very art centered town* I think to myself, "we won't stay long, just lunch and a few shops to bore me." The big mistake--we follow everyone else into Romancing the Stone. So Jim and I are just walking around ready to leave the town when the store manager comes up to us and does his whole "prancing pony" bit to entice us to buy something. I tell him that I'm fine and I walk off . . . alone--another mistake. He follows me and continues to harass me until he finally finds the balls to ask me if Jim and I were "family." (and, yes, he did do the quote gesture with his hands) Now I am sure you gathered what that means. But before I could blurt out, "NO!" He invited us both to come back in November for some type of "Gay-Fest" (his own words) By this time I am officially disgusted and to the point of spreading lung butter (puke) across the floor. Ohh . . . the humility! We both needed a happy pill right then. For the rest of the day we wouldn't even stand close to each other. It was horrible.

Moral to the story:

Don't ever visit Eureka Springs unless you have ATLEAST one girl in hand. To be safe carry along two.

Also, eat the Mud Street Cafe. Home-made everything, and it's all delicious.

Caution:

Many men in this local also wish to be women. This is also quite disgusting.