A Fred & Towanda!

I have an imaginary boyfriend!  Well, that’s what I call him to my husband Ricky-Bobby! Now Ricky knows about my boyfriend and isn’t too jealous.  My tall drink of water is in his 70’s, doesn’t speak a lick of English, is gainfully employed as a security guard at the grocery store, and doesn’t know he’s my boyfriend.  We will call him, Fred.

I go to the same store like a MILLION times a week because:

1. My refrigerator is the size of a small piss pot!

2. It’s right up the street from me. 

I first met Fred when I couldn’t get my Zlote coin in the cart.  (Or as my brother, Sporting, calls the money…Zoytles)  Fred walked up to help me and with that blossomed a relationship of him helping me each time, because I’m blonde and can’t figure the damn thing out! After the 100^th time, I told Ricky Bobby that Fred was my boyfriend.  Ricky being Ricky thought, “OK lady what every floats your boat and makes the time pass for ya!” aka “Crazy Ass!”

Lately, Fred has wanted to take our relationship a bit farther with a little hands on action!! The other day I was walking out of the store with my goods, when Fred mumbled something at me to make me stop.  I stopped, he looks at me, I look at him, then he reaches in....OMG What the hell’s going on here!  Then it happens……..he fixes my jacket hood.  With a smile he pats me on the back, like I’m next on the field.  AWKWARD!!!

As awkward as it was, I was giggling inside…someone was nice to me!! A Polish someone at that! So out I went, hiding my happiness in my head, so not to let the others see my happiness and give me the stink eye. Now in Poland you can have a fun happy moment, but usually it doesn’t last very long and something frustrating will happen to take away your joy.

I was backing my car out of a spot and ready to drive off when of course I get cut off. Getting cut off isn’t anything new, it happens a MILLION times a day; when I return to the States I will definitely need rehab for my road rage issues.  The first step is admitting I have a problem, and boy do I! (I may need shock treatment) But back to my story… the “gentleman” that cuts me off has the balls to start yelling at me.  Again, the yelling happens a MILLION times a day, but this day I took it personal! How can this shithead mess with my happy moment!!! So what did I do?  You got it, started yelling words, words I cannot type with hands that hug my mother, and throwing my hands in the air, and waving them like I just don’t care!  I was so filled with rage, it took all of me not to:

TOWANDA his ass!!!

I was of course the bigger person and drove off instead. 

And that my friends, is how a sweet moment with my imaginary boyfriend turned into road rage!
-Mandy

Dear Andy Cohen,

Oh how I love “Watch What Happens Live”.  Your keen eye for “reality” and drama make for excellent viewing.  There really is nothing like pouring a big glass of wine and sitting down for a good table flipping or wig wearing bitch fight. I tend to like the really crazy …Teresa/New Jersey, Kim/Atlanta, Brandi/Beverly Hills, and the crazy eyed Ramona/New York. 

My dear Andy, I would like to pitch a new “Reality” show.  The Real Expat Wives, I think this idea has great merit and would surly generate mega ratings.  Below I list a few of my favorite moments in the Real Housewives world and describe how my experiences as a Real Expat Wife could be turned into some good wine glass viewing.

The Classic Jersey Italian

Check this idea out.  It’s a beautiful spring Embassy luncheon.  The tables are set, the wine glasses are full, and the beautifully dressed women are chatting.  All of a sudden it turns nasty.  The Canadian says to the Hispanic, “You forget to wish me a Happy Birthday in the newsletter last month.” Oh shit!, Ok, so there is no yelling of “prostitution whore” or table flipping, but the five minutes of harsh tones added a real drama to the lunch.  I think the best part of the birthday tantrum was when a random women at the table said, “The good news is you’ll have more birthdays, God willing.”  The venom from the Canadian eyes sent a shiver… it was a real Jersey moment!

Mama Elsa is by far one of my favorites

Andy, It’s undeniable that my next two stories will send the ratings over the top.

Nash, my husband, sets up a coffee for me with a spouse of one of his co-workers.  I arrive in jeans, a sweater, Uggs and my east coast accent.  She arrives in slacks, a silk top, heels and a Spanish accent.  A few minutes into coffee (friend interview), as a newly arrived expat every interaction is a “friend interview.”  So, a few minutes in the wife says to me “God is good, I prayed he would send me just one best friend and here you are!”  YIKES!!! The rest of my days are spent hiding from my “God sent BFF."

My next pitch gives viewers a true sense of the expat life style! 

The oil/gas wife and the embassy wife kindly invite me to go for a face peeling surgery.  The process burns layers of your skin so that you look brighter, younger, and refreshed.  Umm, I remember when Samantha, from Sex in the City, and that chick from Mob Wives had their faced burned and I’ll pass.  Not to mention, I just can’t get Mama Elsa’s face out of my mind.  Banana! After the procedure they call me to say the car smells like burning flesh.  Over the next 3 days they send me photos of their burnt red splotchy faces.  So sorry I missed this adventure.

Andy, these are just a few examples of why I believe “The Real Expat Wives” would be a lucrative reality show.  I have many more stories full of exciting wine socials, dramatic international group meetings, crazy wives, and shopping.   Oh the cast of women and husbands I could give you!  Or maybe this is just how I entertain myself? As our friend “FunnySuz”says, you just have to laugh at it!

Anyway, Andy give me holler and we’ll talk!

-Annoula