La Henna Esta Famosa

My Gay Husband arrived Monday night and headed over to the Metro station Kiss-N-Ride with me to pick up La Henna.  Everything was going great.  La Henna had been carrying a torn cardboard box with her the entire time, which I just naturally assumed held her clothes and toiletries.  MUCH BETTER THAN THAT.  La Henna brought me a gift:

That's a mannequin, no legs, one arm, dressed like a flight attendant.  Dash took one look at her and named her Sassy.  

My excitement over my superb gift was dampened by my dead NannyMobile in the parking lot.  Yep, totally dead.  I stood there for a second, letting La Henna and My Gay Husband pretend to try and then we all smoked cigarettes and stared at it.  None of that worked.  We ended up waiting an hour and a half for the roadside assistance guy to come jump us off (which always sounds dirty to me).  

The worst part was that La Henna had arrived on one of the last trains of the night.  So all the cars had slowly trickled out of the parking lot, the taxi cabs off to find fares elsewhere.  But we made the most of what little fodder was left.  A cop car drove around the lot slowly a couple times, then dropped off a girl from the back of his car.  She went to sit at one of the bus benches ... but no more buses were running that night!!!!!!  Clearly, a prostitute.  We spent most of our time watching her.  One lone cabbie tried to solicit her services but then some guy walked up and ruined the whole thing.

We were so tired when we got back that, after we had eaten every leftover in the house and imbibed a lot little, I was so tired I didn't even force My Gay Husband to snuggle with me.  And if you know how needy and sad I am, then you know that's pretty damn tired.