Story Topper

Story Toppers.  They exist everywhere.  I tend to run into them a lot in the workplace.  You know the type.  You tell a story and they constantly have to one up you. 
 
"What do you do?"
 
"I sell food to jails."
 
"I worked in a jail once!"
 
So today I'm sitting in my office minding my own business and TMI comes in.  I call her TMI for obvious reasons (did you know she currently has a yeast infection?  Yeah, you're welcome).  Anyway, TMI comes in and we start discussing our mutual (and fabulous!) gay hairdresser.  She went to see the gay last night.  She told me how they get along SO WELL and how they text every now and then.  I kinda find this hard to believe but it may be true.  Then she starts in with how she just has this way with gay men.  She doesn't know what it is, but she is just drawn to them and they are so much fun!
 
Now, TMI is a fairly hard core Christian.  Her kid goes to a strict Christian high school.  The kind of school with a handbook and dress codes and a place where they will literally paddle you for disobedience.  So tell me, where does the whole "I'm tight with the gays" come in to play here?
 
TMI falls into the Story Topper category because I, too, have a gay best friend.  I actually have a lot of gay friends in general, but one holds the top honor.  In any case, TMI knows of my Top Gay.  She knows we do almost everything together even though I'm married (well, you know what I mean!).  So I'm not sure if she's trying to relate to me or outdo me or a bit of both, but frankly I don't care.  If you have gay friends I think that's great.  If you don't, it's your loss.  But I really don't care either way.  I'm not going to be friends with you or not friends with you based on your fag hag status.  This holds true for just about anything (I do draw the line at foot fetish people.  That's just sick).  We're all different and unique and kumbaya and all that shit.
 
But TMI made me start thinking of my last workplace Story Topper.  We'll call her The Falcon.  Why The Falcon you ask?  Because one day she went to her car, in her garage, and there was a FALCON sitting on her car.  Let me repeat, a FALCON.  Um, we live in middle america.  In cornfields.  How many falcons are just flying around?  None, that's how many.  But apparently one sought her out and decided to take refuge on top of her 1999 Ford Windstar.
 
The Falcon also likes to tell how she had a pet raccoon when she was a child.  Rocky the Raccoon would sit on her shoulder and watch tv with her.  Of course Rocky the Potentially Rabid Raccoon never bit her her anyone else.  He was a unique raccoon that just happened to like living a more civilized life.  Well, one day, Rocky got the boot.  I don't remember why he got the boot, but he did.  Upon telling me this, The Falcon got sort of wistful and gazed off into the distance.  Then told me how some time later, Rocky appeared at the back door.  TF got down on her knees to look at Rocky and just like that, he put his paw up to the window.  TF put her hand up to window as well and they shared a tender moment.
 
Sweartagawd.
 
I really wish I had a voice recorder of some sort so you would know that I'm not making this shit up.