Cannibalism At The C*ntry Club

Shutterstock / Andrey Arkusha
Shutterstock / Andrey Arkusha

A part of my awful nanny job is carpooling the kids to the Cuntry Club for tennis lessons. Of course these spoiled, entitled kids of two doctors who pay me shit take tennis lessons at a Cuntry Club.

There’s an air of snobbishness hung thick in the air as you walk in and pass the Cuntry Clubbers.

The women look at me and know instantly that I’m the nanny and beneath them. I’m not wearing a tennis skirt and a razorback Lululemon workout top. I can already picture them at their weekly Pilates class…working up a sweat to prevent their middle-aged and below-average-looking husbands from leaving them for a white girl. Just kidding, that’s a Kanye lyric…they’re all oh-so-obviously white.

The men look at me with an interest in fucking me, or they look me up and down disinterested in fucking me. They’re either thinking, “She’d fuck me—I make six figures” or “I make six figures—I can do better.”

I got the two-year-old to sit still long enough for me to drink two cups of complimentary Cuntry Club coffee. During my much-needed caffeine intake I was able to observe the Cuntry Clubbers in their natural element: talking shit about old sorority acquaintances. I wish I could tell you her name wasn’t Stacy, but I cannot. Apparently Stacy—after graduating at the top of Delta Fuck Beta—has acquired a fat ass. Her ass gained not only girth but widespread wonder from her “friends.”

How could Stacy let herself go? She “Only had two kids” and “It’s not like she can’t afford a trainer.”

Both notions rely on the premise that there’s no excuse to let your body change.

How dare you let your body rest after creating life?

How dare you think you’re worth more than what your ass looks like in a pair of Lululemons?

The only real thing Stacy needed to work on was meeting better friends. I guess you get what you pay for and when you’re in the business of “buying” friends, once the obligatory friendliness isn’t a part of the weekly chapter meeting, you see people for who they are. Unfortunately for Stacy her ass became the story of the week instead of that time she sucked off the cute lacrosse captain. Either way, we’re talking about a part of Stacy’s body with an orifice nearby. Interesting, isn’t it? These women don’t touch Stacy’s ass or sleep with it, but they believe they’re in the position to Ebert & Roeper her dumper. Why? Why do any of us make fun of someone else or feel the need to point out their “flaws”?

I’m going to assume for these women, it’s out of some old sorority spite. Stacy was probably the ‘head’ Delta Fuck Beta girl. She maybe got the guy they wanted. What to do now? Pounce like lions when there’s an opportunity to tear her down. She’s a successful attorney, has two children, SHE HAS IT ALL! But…but…she doesn’t get to have it all, at least not when the Cuntry Clubbers say so. They’d rather eat her alive than face who they are. TC mark

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