There were Greenies (also Pinkies, Bluies, and Purplies), tots, fries, curds, and mini corn dogs. There were woo-girls, a disturbing plastic doll, a boy wearing a "birthday princess" sash, and three people who walked in on me while I was in the bathroom. My mildest-mannered friend announced that she would "cut a b*tch" if the bride-to-be who was indiscriminately firing off an air horn didn't stop that immediately. (And said bride-to-be was wearing a veil adorned with various prophylactics.)  We used up every napkin at our table (and most of those at an adjoining table) in an OCD-induced frenzy, trying to keep the table as dry as possible. Sassy's boyfriend was spared from hearing tales of girly-bits (and issues thereof) by the arrival of my ragazz'. Then the boys talked about painting and cars while we girls made up our own gang signs.

Did I mention that none of us are under 40? Heh. Moral of the story: The 'jays know how to take care of each other when one of us is having a hard week.

Best quote of the night: "Brunch is NEVER like this."