Save Me, Oh Zeus!: Tales of a Crazy Biatch Pt 2

I mentioned before that Marjorie was a little off, telling us about her imaginary son and her magical boob strings, but the things telling us she was a little off just kept keep piling up.

Example #4: It’s okay to drink red wine when you’re pregnant

So a week after Marjorie started working with us, she announced she was pregnant.  This was the day after she got married, and we were so happy to hear that she was going to have a little one.  She was going to the store and showing us all the cute baby things she had, telling us how excited her husband (who was in Korea on a deployment) was for the little one, and she went around telling everyone just how exhilarating it would be for her imaginary son to have a little brother or sister.

We didn’t know she was crazy yet, and I was convinced this chick could be my new best friend, so as a friendly gesture, I gave her a driving tour of Fairbanks.  I took her to all the nice places to shop, where to avoid, where you go for an extra special Asian massage, you know, all the fun stuff in the Banks.

Miss this place SO MUCH

Miss this place SO MUCH

After my two hour long driving tour of Fairbanks, we decided to go back to my place to watch a movie and chat.  She lived in the apartment complex I lived in, but in a different section.  She told me that she’s allowed to have a glass of red wine when pregnant, since it can actually be good for the baby.  I shrugged, figuring that since I was only 21 at the time, I probably didn’t know a lot about the pregnancy business since she was years older than me.

So we go to the liquor store to get some wine, and she picks out a white wine.  Well, a strawberry white zinfandel that’s pink in color.

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

SEVENTEEEEEEN!

“Marjorie, I thought you could only have red wine?” I asked her, concerned for the growing baby inside her.

“Oh, it’s red in color, so it’s okay,” she said, whipping out her credit card to pay for the wine.  For someone who was so excited to have a baby, she seemed so ready to bend the rules for her baby.  I guess that if it were me, I’d be terrified of drinking for fear of developmental issues, but she claimed that she did the same with her four year old and he turned out just fine.

So, I let my naivety get the best of me and we went back to my apartment.

Where she got hammered.

And while she was hammered she was telling me about how her parents raised her to have the religion of the Ancient Greeks.  She told me that Zeus was her God, as well as Hera, Artemis, Apollo, and so on.

Zeus will protect my baby

Zeus will protect my baby

The crazy just kept piling up.

She and I drank the entire bottle of wine, and she stumbled back home to her apartment once Alex got home.

A week later, she miscarried, stating that it was from all of the bacteria in the well water in North Pole, and she’s not used to untreated water.  (It’s funny, she should have been briefed on the arsenic in the water, but it was such trace amounts that it doesn’t affect you).

So she told us that she had to go to the ER when she miscarried, and they had to cut open her stomach in a C-Section manner to get the baby out.

Considering she was only two months along, this seemed really, really off.

Usually they do a procedure that just cleans out the uterus, or scrapes the insides, but they never cut open a woman who is only two months along to get the dead baby out.

But this was her story, and she even had bandages around her midsection to prove that this is what happened.

My lovely newfie friend begged her to show the actual wound, but Marjorie would always have an excuse, stating that she couldn’t remove her bandages, or that she didn’t want it exposed to open air, or that she was insulted that nobody believed her.

But fear not, it just continually got weirder and weirder…

Have you ever met anyone who was just craving attention in the weirdest possible ways?  Do you have any crazy stories like this?  Let me know in the comments!  Also, you should totally like this post.

 

I suppose I should also add a disclaimer: I have been told that small amounts of wine is recommended for pregnant women, but the irony in this story was that she got drunk on wine, stating it was okay.  It is NOT okay to get drunk on wine when you’re preggo, but I can understand a small glass of wine.

 

Also, Kudos to those who get the strawberry wine caption reference.

Elvis Hates My Vagina

I’m finding more time to blog since I threw out my back a few days ago, enjoying the plethora of pain killers given to me by the doctor, so I figured I’d write a blog post for y’all.

 

This is the story of how I met an ancient Elvis and how he decided that my Vagina was not good enough for him.

When I was working one day, I was doing my usual wonder woman thing, when I heard on the intercom, “Someone from donations is needed for a carry out.”

Since I work in donations, I figure I can go up to the front and help them carry out whatever object they need.  Before grabbing the dolly, I decide to see just how big the object is.  Usually it’s something small like a chair that’s around ten pounds, so I don’t worry about it too much.

I walk out and the girl who paged me pointed to this old man by the TVs.  He was tall, about 90 years old, but had Elvis hair.

Except way older

Except way older

The man looks at me, and says one sentence that makes me want to lose my temper.

“Oh geez, why the hell did they send a woman to lift up this old tv?  Women can’t lift for shit.”

I felt my eye twitch and I say to him, “Sir, I’m Midwestern.  I can lift the tv you need.”

He then begins to argue with me.  “No you can’t you’re a woman.  Women can’t lift. I’ll just do it myself if they can only send a woman.”

To which he reaches over to lift up a 6” screen tv, that weighed maybe ten pounds, and he carries it to the front of the store with no effort.

I stood there, unamused and confused.

Did Ancient Elvis just tell me that I can’t lift something because I have a uterus?

Thanks Elvis.  Thanks for thinking my vagina is not suitable for lifting.

Ever been discriminated against because of your dirty bits?  Ever been told you can’t do something because of something you can’t help?  Let me know in the comments!

 

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