Notes on a demo scandal.

While I was gone doing demos for Tree Huggin' Treats I kept a diary to document my travels. If you think the life of Demo Girl is without danger and excitement, think again. The life of Demo Girl is always intense. (Wait, that's Repo Man. Never mind).

Dear Diary,

My travels today were fraught with peril. First, I got lost going to Greenville and then I almost starved to death. Luckily, when I pulled over at a rest stop to panic I didn't have to forage for food in the vending machines or garbage cans. Instead, I busted open a box of the Crispy Cats and ate a mint coconut while composing myself on the curb.

After I placed several phone calls to several unhelpful people, I was on the road again and headed in the right direction...or so I thought.

Lost again after getting totally absorbed by the Sirius radio banter of the Martha Stewart channel, I pulled over to a gas station. It was really scary and I was sure I was going to get raped by the clerk. It was like a bad movie. I couldn't have made up a more stereotypical redneck. He was wearing a cut-off flannel shirt, and he had jail house looking tattoos and he was dipping. Dipping....need I say more? But I knew time was of the essence and so I sucked it up and asked if I was anywhere near I-85. After the clerk had a good chuckle about how lost I was he told me how to get to the highway. I really didn't want to use the bathroom there, but I was ready to pee my pants so I asked him if he had a restroom I could use. He pointed toward a dark hallway and told me it was at the end of the hall to the left. I swear I heard him laughing like Vincent Price as I walked towards my demise. Everything in my heart told me to get the hell out of there and just pee in my pants. Even though I felt like I was in the movie Hostel, I didn't have the heart to run screaming out of there. What if he was really a nice person and it hurt his feelings that I was afraid to use his bathroom? Was I really so superficial and stuck up that I was too good to pee in this man's gas station? The answer is yes, but it was too late at this point to turn back, so I just edged along until I made it to the bathroom. The cleanliness of the toilet was a nightmare so I used all my best yoga skills to hover over the Bowl of Doom, but my foot slipped on some slime and my ass ended up touching the seat!! It was not till I stood up that I realized that there was something gross and sticky on my ass cheek. I was totally distraught and decided that I really didn't want that part of my ass anymore and at the first possible opportunity I was going to cut it off. I truly felt at that point that merely washing it off would not suffice. No. This was too intense; the ass cheek would have to go. In the end I didn't cut it off, but I am seeking counseling for PTSD.
That's all I have for now, diary, but I will write more later after I have recouperated. I'm so happy I didn't get raped on this demo excursion. But I have been lifting weights at the gym in preparation for my upcoming arm wrestling contest, so it would be interesting to see if I could kick the ass of a grown man.
I think all the super sets I have been doing and all the Crispy Cats I have been eating to recover are about to pay off big time!