Hey, Dizzle here.
So our friend Derf called me up this afternoon to ask me if I felt like working one night for his job. He works for Dean & Deluca, which, if you don't know what that is, think white people with fat wallets, bad haircuts and NO sense of humor. BG and I had been worrying a little about money right now, as we don't have as much as we thought we would before we left. The freakout ends when we remind ourselves (or each other) that it'll be okay and we have each other's back, but still...we've gotten comfortable here in DC, and so any change is stressful change. But I digress.
At this gig, there were a lot of power-suit type people and a coat check and high-end food and wine. It seemed like a nice Fortune 500 holiday party, which I had no problem with. It was only from 3-10, and the money Derf promised me was right, so no worries. But there was an additional perk. Someone left his name tag on one of the tables I had to bus at the end of the night. For those of you with a sense of humor beyond the 6th grade, stop reading. Just check this blog later for when Baby G writes something much more mature and sage. For everyone ELSE, on the other hand, check THIS out:
I'm DYIN', here!