True to the Stereotype: Mary Kay Would Be Proud

It's a nice night. I have my windows and sliding doors open to let in the breeze and to hear the thunder somewhere off in the distance.

But the breeze isn't all that's blowing in. On the porch below ours, there are three or four women smoking and talking about guns. (I kid you not. The word "glock" was mentioned.)

Another girl walks in from the parking lot, obviously looking confused.

"You here for the Mary Kay party?"

"Yeah, how do I get down there?"

"You just foller them steps back there -- all the way back -- and turn a right."