Girl Fight!

Girl fight. Are there two words in the english language better guaranteed to cause every male head poke out of every hole, doorway or window? It's never pretty; it's rarely fun; yet you always seem to walk away with a smile.

Let's turn the clock back to last Friday evening. Trudy and I were walking up along Christy, coming back up to Delor when we passed in front of an apartment building. A young woman stood in front, her dishrag blonde hair bobbing as she shouted something up to the swarthy young man standing in the balcony.

"Rebecca, you bitch! Get your drunk ass off my front yard before I call the cops! Leave my brother alone!"

This was new. I glanced around, seeing that swarthy young man in the balcony had been replaced with Italian princess.

"Call the cops bitch! They won't do nothin'! I'll go when and where I want!" Rebecca's reply.

"Don' mess wit' me, bitch! You'll get smoked!"

"HA! You can't smoke me. You don't got the guts!"

I kept on walking, trying not to smirk as I passed Rebecca, who was glaring up at the princess on the balcony. This is where I noticed many male heads popping out of windows and doors along the street, like prairie dogs checking out the plains.

"I so will smoke you! You're nothin'! Bitch!" At this point, I'm not sure who said it. I really didn't care. The princess wasn't going to come down to give Rebecca her richly-deserved ass-kicking, and watching two white girls screeching in street talk to one another, while funny at first, gets old after awhile.

My fellow spectators agreed with me, and returned to what they were doing. The last I saw, Rebecca stomped to her black TrailBlazer and tore out, leaving a trail of rubber and smoke in the street.