Nightmare on 5th Avenue

Wow, I had a Come To Jesus moment on Saturday.

I was in a designer store on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.

I was perusing the lovely merchandise and the charming Nick offered me an espresso.

I eagerly responded in the affirmative as we were drenched from walking several miles through the first snowstorm of the season.

Two large women with short, puffy hairdos and glittery, bright pink matching parkas literally plopped down together on the velvet settee and started talking to us.

They told us their entire life story in 3 minutes, proud to be from the Florida panhandle better known as the Redneck Riviera.

Arbitrarily, the two middle-aged women asked us if we thought that race relations were worse now than in the 60’s?

My husband, thinking we were of like minds, responded accordingly, laying blame on Agent Orange.

I smelled a rat and lo and behold, they pronounced Obama responsible for the tenuous race relations especially since he is not an American citizen…one queried if we knew that he was born in Kenya and that Obama’s brother had verified the fact.

Holy shit, I needed to disengage, but unfortunately, she continued on.

She prays for Dumpster every night and is planning on sending him a Christmas card, thanking him for being one of “God’s anointed ones.”

“Did I realize that God had chosen Moses to lead and that Trump was created in the image of Moses?”

All I could come up with similar body type and a hair obsession.

I asked what trump had done to impress her.

Her response, “he always takes the moral high ground and he is such an honorable man.”

How do you respond that to that load of crap?

The other one piped up, “My 401K is amazing since Trump took over.”

I stood up, wished the two a Happy Holiday (defiantly I refused to wish them a Merry Christmas), said that this was America and they could believe whatever they wanted to, but I needed to go purge myself and rinse the Redneck Riviera stench off of my body.