So, let's start with Duuuuumb Bitch #1, aka, Duuuuumb Bitch & the Spider:
- Duuuuumb Bitch #1 was talking to me, at a social gathering. We were getting along just fine, in fact, we (at least I was) were finding conversation easy and fruitful. We were chuckling over small-time atrocities (like husbands) and relating on levels that young moms do. Then, hubby came up behind me and smack-picked at my back and said, "Poochie, there was a huge spider on your back! I got it!" I was appalled, of course, because who doesn't suffer on some level from arachnophobia, and exclaimed (probably) with a colorful freak-out of profanity. Duuuuumb Bitch #1 observed this fiasco and then calmly replied to me (us), in between stuffy giggles, "Oh yes! I watched that spider crawl into your hair!" WTF, Duuuuumb Bitch?!? Regardless of what level you are on with a person, wouldn't MOST people take a stand against those that crawl on eight legs??? Needless to say, the evening ended with me paying attention to my husband, which is a rarity. Damn you, Duuuuumb Bitch #1...
And there's Duuuuumb Bitch #2, aka Duuuuumb Bitch & Barbie:
- Duuuuumb Bitch #2 and I, waaaay back in late 1970's, early 1980's, were playing Barbies, outside of the trailer I lived in, at the picnic table. She and I would always trade Barbie clothes, which I loved to do with her because she almost always had the better Barbie apparel. This was expected, of course, because her mother could afford a double-wide trailer and a generic Camaro (My mother drove a Buick Skylark). In any case, there we were, trading away. And though we were only 8 and 9 years old, Duuuuumb Bitch #2 would always make Barbie and Ken have sex. Rowdy, loud, ridiculous sex, that made me uncomfortable because I was afraid that the neighbors would hear and figure out what she was making Barbie and Ken do (my Ken and Barbie would only have sex in private). I told her to "Sssshhhh!" indicating my discomfort over people hearing what she was doing. Duuuuumb Bitch #2 stopped slamming Ken and Barbie together and looked at me with her eyes that peered out from beneath her huge, square, forehead. She shrugged and began throwing her dolls into her Barbie case. As she was doing this, she said, "You're so stupid. Even they..." (she indicated the brown with white trimmed single-wide across the street from my house) ..."say you're stupid. They watch you after you get off the bus, look around all secretly before you grab the hidden key from underneath the eaves on your shed.... You do it everyday, and they already know where your key is. They can get into your house anytime they want. They're right; you're so stupid." With that, she sauntered off on her tip-toes (because she always walked that way, which I now associate with a certain degree of A.D.D.) swinging her exquisite Barbie case and disappearing around the front of my white with brown trim single-wide trailer. I felt funny, watching her leave, because what she said was true, I did that, everyday, trying to be James Bondie about getting into my home, but also relieved because she held true to our trade and left the Barbie clothes that we'd exchanged. Funny (but not funny, peculiar) how we simply can not forget certain things... Of course her and I played together again after that, but her sister would always ash her fucking cigarettes into my hair at the bus stop in the mornings. Nobody would tell her to stop. Everybody at the bus stop would laugh and I would stand there... wishing to disappear. I would later shake my hair out, when nobody could see me. Bus stop bully. I guess the sister could qualify as a Duuuuumb Bitch, but I never bothered to think about her enough. You know... she was so awful, I simply blocked her out. Duuuuumb Bitch.
Duuuuumb Bitch #3: