Rednecks trump George Clooney every time

So tonight, George Clooney, feeling generous (remember that bank account) and desiring to give me a break, takes me and the Boy to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. It's like dinner theater there. We sit outside on the sidewalk and watch the moving exhibits.

I don't ever recall an evening when there wasn't some freakshow for entertainment. Mostly, it's the drunks, but every once in a while we'll get a real winner. Tonight we hit the jackpot, not once but twice. Well, maybe it was once, but with a bonus.

There was a group of young men who joined the festivities outside. I couldn't see them, but I sure heard them. Sooooouuuuuthern as southern can get. I mean, fried green tomatoes southern. They were drinking and smoking and trash-talking, but generally not being bothersome. Suddenly, an old Crown Victoria pulls across the parking lot and double parks right in front of them (and us) with a gigantic fat lady dressed inapproapriately too revealing (please, just don't ask how I know she was in a too-tight sundress) in the driver's seat, and an equally huge and very intoxicated man hanging out of the back seat window yells at the guys. "Hey Playahs, I'm riding in the backseat of the Po-Po."

Wow. I have no response to that. I was trying to figure out if he was in the backseat of a real police cruiser, or if they were just making fun of the Crown Vic. I think, maybe, he was serious that they bought it from the Police auction. Um. Wow, and aren't there open container laws? He was drinking the very cliche Colt 45 out of a can. I couldn't make this up.

They said their goodbyes, which included a brief exchange on their real experiences riding in the back of the Po-Po's cars, police cars for those of you lacking the urban vocabulary.

Which of course brings me to the next point. Those good ole boys were dressed in the finest Fubu fashions. They looked ridiculous and somehow wrong. I mean, I think overalls and camouflage fit better with their accents and lifestyle choices. Face it, the cool urban blacks I know drink Hennesey, not Colt 45. It's about the image, man.

Well, they were just a gigantic ball of southern cliche when their dates show up. I'm embarrassed to say, the "ladies" completed the picture. I really resent, being on the plus side myself, how some women dress to accentuate what they really don't need to be showing. We were assaulted by the white trash ensemble that would have been trashy on Britney Spears. Yech.

Proof that you can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the redneck out of the boy.