“ Pouched quail eggs?”
This was the question I had been asked by a stout woman with a thick Irish
brogue, and an equally thick mustache. How did I get here?
I’ll tell you how, with the most valuable information my mother ever
taught me, “Fake it till you make it my dear”. This tidbit of maternal wisdom
has served me well.
Dinning on an impeccable ensemble of china, fresh flowers, crisp linen, and more silver than I have ever seen, I sat my ample ass on a velvet
cushion listing to the chatter at the table… apparently Rod Stewart
married his last, or second to last wife In the same abode.
I was having dinner with two of Ireland’s equipment giants. At the time
I was in sales, heavy equipment to be exact, you know earth movers,
forklifts, yada, yada.
I was sent to Ireland for touring the factory and learning the
product. Singled out by the owners as a brilliant student, they asked me to
attend a dinner at one of the last family operating castles in the
region. No less with a living earl still inhabiting the family castle
dating back to the 16 century. Although technically alive( he was
ancient) he was a hoot and very charming.
What is it about guys with accents? An Irish brogue would make
Quasimodo look appealing. The moment they let loose with a sentence, we
are in a trance. I’m a hard sale, but even I fell under the spell.
Sitting with all these tiny Irish men with the frickin’ cutest accents
in the world was starting to make my head spin. Not to mention I’m a stinking redhead in Ireland! They loved me, big hit at the pubs!
As the night wore on the boyfriend I brought along (I will regret not
going alone on this trip) began to wear on my nerves. He was, to say the least, a chest beating android who became enraged with the attention I was getting. He was looked at as an irritation by my hosts.
This was the question I had been asked by a stout woman with a thick Irish
brogue, and an equally thick mustache. How did I get here?
I’ll tell you how, with the most valuable information my mother ever
taught me, “Fake it till you make it my dear”. This tidbit of maternal wisdom
has served me well.
Dinning on an impeccable ensemble of china, fresh flowers, crisp linen, and more silver than I have ever seen, I sat my ample ass on a velvet
cushion listing to the chatter at the table… apparently Rod Stewart
married his last, or second to last wife In the same abode.
I was having dinner with two of Ireland’s equipment giants. At the time
I was in sales, heavy equipment to be exact, you know earth movers,
forklifts, yada, yada.
I was sent to Ireland for touring the factory and learning the
product. Singled out by the owners as a brilliant student, they asked me to
attend a dinner at one of the last family operating castles in the
region. No less with a living earl still inhabiting the family castle
dating back to the 16 century. Although technically alive( he was
ancient) he was a hoot and very charming.
What is it about guys with accents? An Irish brogue would make
Quasimodo look appealing. The moment they let loose with a sentence, we
are in a trance. I’m a hard sale, but even I fell under the spell.
Sitting with all these tiny Irish men with the frickin’ cutest accents
in the world was starting to make my head spin. Not to mention I’m a stinking redhead in Ireland! They loved me, big hit at the pubs!
As the night wore on the boyfriend I brought along (I will regret not
going alone on this trip) began to wear on my nerves. He was, to say the least, a chest beating android who became enraged with the attention I was getting. He was looked at as an irritation by my hosts.
Boyfriend proceeds to drink 12 pints of Guinness, thus portraying a
complete ass. Locked out of the room. Id had it with him. Said ass
spent the night on tasteful lounges in the lobby. Needless to say, we
broke up on the flight home.
Why are we expected to be arm candy, smile, look hot, and dig doing it?
Can I say I loved being the one with a set for once!( please tell me I
don’t have to explain “set”)
I was in the industry because I can talk to anyone, and believe I
can do anything if I choose to. It’s astounding, what you put out there, people believe (use your powers for good not evil ladies). I was a
single mother with the second full time job of my adult life, and was
kicking ass!
I had been handed a bad situation after my divorce, an x husband that
felt paying child support was something he would do if he could( he
never could, shmuck!). I had little choice but to survive. Why just
survive? One must thrive! That time in my life changed me, but for the
better; I know I can do anything I set my mind to do.
I was rounding corners At 80 mph, and squealing with utter delight as
my host, the cute not married one, took me home after my boyfriend was
escorted back to the hotel. Not just any ride… his Lamborghini!
We roar to the hotel , valet opens door….leg out first (trying to
look like those commercials of rock star women), paying close
attention to knees clinched, no one needed to see all that. Thinking
all the men’s eyes were on me, as there was quite a crowd. No…they
were huddled around the car, hands in pockets standing around in true
man ritualistic fashion.
But you know who was watching my every move…….. The women……
Don’t be such a bitch!
Peace out bitches
~Reigan Riley
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