Why Buy the Cow When You Can Get the Milk for Free? (and other unsolicited advice)

Welcome to Lubbock! My first eyebrow wax (yes, this was on the move-in list; I was feeling inhuman) is performed by a nice lady we'll call Opinionated Ophelia. O2 starts asking questions, mainly about Big Guy.

"Who is he? Where does he work? What's his last name? Who's his mother? What is his favorite color?"

I answer with fear in my heart. What if she knows his whole family? What if her daughter was once betrothed to my Big Guy? My fear is calmed when she says she doesn't know his family. Whew. Next question.

"You're not moving in with him, are you?" she asks accusingly.

"No," I sigh.

"Good girl," she nods approvingly. "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

Dear God, people still SAY that? Hey O2, it's 2003. LOTS of people still buy the cow. And personally I don't EVER want to get married without tasting the milk first. These are things I cannot say.

O2 also wants to know if my mother "works," since that is a rather rare occurrence around these parts. I answer that she is a realtor and she loves her job; except for the "on call" part of it.

"Oh, my husband is a realtor also. His company discourages working on Sundays, though. Isn't that nice? They want you to go to church."

"Ha!" I snort, without thinking about it. "I'd sleep in."

"Oh, you just wait till you're older," O2 replies knowingly. "You'll NEED church."

See you in hell, girls.