It was not going to be an easy morning. Lauren Perkins had just got out of bed and was going to pour herself a bowl of cereal. She didn’t sleep that well because the neighbors next door were arguing about the lipstick that was found on the husband’s collar and the neighbor below her sang “Danny Boy” to the top of her lungs until 1:30 in the morning. She thought she had poured herself a big bowl of her favorite cereal, Crunchie Choco-Bombs. She opened the box, got out the milk, which was good for one more day before it would turn so sour even Bin Laden wouldn’t drink it and sliced her bananna in the bowl.
Everything was going good until she opened her blue-green eyes, moved the gray/red hair out of her eyes and realized that she didn’t pour cereal into her bowl. It was cat food. This was not going to be a good day. Somehow, she mustered the courage to get into the shower, get out of the shower, get dressed and head off to work. It was as if her guardian angel took the day off. The car wouldn’t start. Okay, no big deal, she thought. “I’ll take the bus.”
Her bus arrived about 5 minutes later and she boarded and took her seat. There was this guy that smelled like he had been swimming in scotch for three days and he was determined to hit on her. After several attempts to get the guy to stop, she arrived at her office near Turner Field. The guy tried to follow her and that’s when Lauren went postal on the guy.
As he tried to paw at her blouse, she grabbed his wrist and had him in a headlock that even Hulk Hogan would have approved. As the two wrestled to the ground, he finally fell and Lauren glared at him. “Now you listen and you listen good,” she said to him. “I’m not your babe, honey, chick or love. Sleep off the hangover and if you come with .10000000 of an inch of me, I will have you tossed in the slammer, capice?” For the rest of the day, no one chose to mess with Lauren.