Psycho..er psychic flash. I had a psychic flash.

I picked Tami up Sunday morning a little after 10. The plan was to go to Goodwill before it got crowded, then hit the dollar store and then out to lunch.

As we drove from her house to Goodwill, I commented that I worry about running into Fluffy. That you know how people look back and say to themselves, "Oh, I should have said ____!"

That I was in no way ready to run into her because I simply don't know what to say or how to react.

I'm definitely not willing to make nice, let bygones be bygones, take the high road... fuck that and fuck her, too.
I don't care what that says about me.

I don't always hold a grudge, but when I've learned that I can't trust someone, I will never trust them again.

And there's no reason to be polite or decent to someone who is complicit in child abuse.

When you scrape away all the layers of the stupid shit she's done, the mean-spirited way she treated everyone who worked so hard to build their programs, the lies... well, there's still the fact that she was/is willing to let her asshole friend be emotionally abusive to children. She knew what a bitch Twatwaffle is. She stood by and allowed the abuse to continue. She's still allowing that piece of crap free rein to run her program and be alone with children.

She's made no effort to put a stop to it.
And that? I won't forgive.

Regardless... shitty person. Ruined my job. Let's not forget that she also shit all over Lyssa by proxy, too. Since of course she doesn't drive and could not continue at my school without me.

I'd prefer never seeing her simpering face again. The whole semi-helpless, hand-flappy, 'I'm just a dewy-eyed girl from Texas' thing that so infuriates me. She does it to manipulate people, of course.
I'm sure that had something to do with her ability to fool the big fish.
Some men are easy to lead around, if ya know what I mean.
Blech.

When we pulled into the parking lot at Goodwill, I told Tami, "I think that's the bitchmobile!" She said, "Do you know the license number?"
I did not.

We parked, got out of the car and went to the entrance. Goodwill tried to protect me by not opening the automatic door. But some women were coming out and the door opened for them.

As Tami grabbed a shopping cart, I looked in through the opening inner doors and saw her.

Fuckin' Fluffy, with her stupid cow face and Twikki hair.

And in utter disgust and more than a little pissed off, I told Tami, "I can't go in." 

We reversed direction, went back to the car. Drove to the dollar store after once again passing the Bitchmobile, aka Cuntcar and getting a good look at the license plate. I don't remember the whole thing, but it ends in ZZ. Close enough. I doubt there are many cars of that type with that license plate.

So we went to the dollar store and I found the plastic tumblers I needed for our snowglobe project. We wandered around in there a few minutes, probably at least 10 to 15. Got back in the car and drove back to Goodwill.

Where the goddamn Bitchmobile was still in the parking lot.

Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaackkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!


So instead of going in, we went out for lunch.
We always have lots to talk about, and this time was no exception.

I love my friend.
I love that we can tell each other things that we'd never say to anyone else.

And she's a good sport, too. When we finished talking eating, it was a little after one. We'd planned for her to be home by one, she has some books to write, after all.

But she said, "I still want to go to Goodwill."

Of course it was much more crowded and noisy and overwhelming by then, so I didn't get to really look as much as I'd like to. But I'm glad Tami's such a good sport.

And now I know the license plate (or enough of the license plate) that I will not be surprised if she's inside a store or whatever and I see her car.

No word yet on what I will say if I am already in and that rotten old cow comes in later.