wine and cheap perfume

I just went to brunch with Josh at Supper, and after we had been sitting down for about two minutes, I excused myself to go to the bathroom because I was convinced that a bird had shit all over my hair, shoulders, arms, and shirt. I scrubbed and scrubbed in the dimly lit bathroom until my entire upper body was neon red with irritation, Yet still, it wouldnt come off. Then Josh realized that it wasn't bird shit at all, it was large wads of brown paint that had been dumped on me from a scaffold above. These guys were painting the building and had no problem letting large blobs of paint splatter all over my freshly-washed torso. The waiter and the manager felt really bad, so they both started gently stroking my body with dirty rags drenched in nail polish remover in an attempt to remove the paint. Then a busboy joined in, and I've never felt more pampered in my life. It didn't really work, because I ended up leaving the restaurant looking like a sunburnt black woman with a strange dye job (certain circular patches of my hair are now dark brown), but all the same, it was a pleasant experience overall. At one point, the manager asked me (as he rigorously scrubbed my bare shoulder),
"Wait, is that a mole, or is that paint?"
I turned to look at the medium-sized brown splotch he was referring to and had no idea. He continued to attack it, until finally we decided that it was, in fact, a mole that he was trying to remove with nail polish remover in the middle of his aromatic, well-decorated dining establishment. They comped our breakfast, which was delicious, I might add, and we left the waiter one hell of a tip. I wish things like that would happen more often. Yesterday, the high point of my day was waking up with a penny in my ass. Not, like, IN my ass, but firmly stuck against my left butt cheek.