<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/7297/tzuhccaneoolbdb6g.jpg) <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Steffy – CC</span></strong></div></div><br/>Poor Taffy—it’s obvious that she’s frustrated.  What can I do to commiserate?  I look at her empty glass as does Mechelle—I get the strong sense of hinting that I should somehow ‘waitress’ a solution.<br/><br/>With this idea clouding the air, Jaclyn does her bit for bonhomie: a clutch dart toss and a generous offer of a round.  “Woo-hoo Jaclyn, woo-hoo!”  I hope she doesn’t think I’m signaling her—that’s my cheering woo-hoo.<br/><br/>But what about Taffy? “I SHALL get you a drink Miss.”  I even, yes, I even curtsy (sort of).  BUT “Oopsy!  My imagined shift is over.  Very over.”  I hold my hand up to motion for a<em>stop! Don’t worry!</em>“Not to worry!”  I wave to Mechelle, “Can you slide a drink Taffy’s way? . . . . Her usual. . . . or something that’s probably one of her usuals.”<br/><br/>I pat Taffy’s hand.  “There, there.  I feel your frustration.”<em>Pat, pat</em>“I understand how difficult it is not being a blonde.”<br/>