People really should keep sharp objects out of my hands.

I cleaned my house so Sandra could come over. Ok, I cleaned the two rooms closest to the front door, but that's more than I usually do. I left the sink full of dishes and the kitchen floor unmopped.

Just to reiterate, I had no idea what I was going to be shown in this "demo". All I knew is that this random girl called me out of the freakin blue, saying she was a friend of Buffy's.

Oh, and Buffy did respond to my text message, sort of. At 9:45pm -

PRESH - AH!!

Shit.

She was calling to chat while she shopped for a watchband wide enough to cover her visible tattoos, which she didn't know was the policy in the office where she just started her new job (for which, she confessed to me, she is grossly underqualified). She didn't mention her friend Sandra. And neither did I.

For all I know, I did unwittingly agree to it. Most of the time I tune her out, wait for her to take a breath and then interject the obligatory fake "uh-huh", so there's a good chance I acquiesced without paying attention.

Given my intense dislike for all varieties of businesses that require "home parties" (based upon my horrid personal experience with the Toy one), the only possible explanations are: A) I wasn't paying attention when she mentioned it, or B) SHE NEVER MENTIONED IT.

Beeb answered the door with me when Sandra arrived. I had the brilliant idea to test Sandra's knowledge of Buffy's life just to see if they were the kind of good friends where Buffy'd want to help her out. If Buffy had another friend in the Greater Metropolitan Area, why didn't she call Sandra's ass to pick her up at the hospital?

As we sat down at my dining room table, I introduced Beeb as Princeton's girlfriend. ANY friend of Buffy's would know Princeton. Princeton is the center of her universe. Princeton has an uncommon name. Buffy has his name tattooed on her shoulder. A tattoo which will need to be covered up when she goes in to work, by the way.

Even Beeb noticed that Sandra clearly had no idea who I was talking about. Interesting.

And then Sandra set a cutting board on my table, and I knew instantly what was coming. THE CUTCO PRESENTATION.

I have seen the Cutco presentation SO many times, I could probably give it. If I had heard, "Hey, I have a friend who's selling Cutco Knives...", I would have shut that shit down instantly. Over the course of my life, I've had so many broke-ass friends lured by the promise of "getting paid to have parties", I swear I've heard them all. I've succummed only once. Never again. Never.

My friends know not to even invite me to those things because they just piss me off. I agree to never to give anyone their numbers or try to sell them anything, and I appreciate the same courtesy. You can tell me if you're selling something, and that's fine - I'll call you when I want to spend $200 on skin care or silver jewelry or adult novelties. But generally speaking, This Girl don't play that.

So I sat through the knife demonstration, pointed out that the group of knives I affectionately call The Dahmer Collection should come with a free bag of lime (Sandra was either unamused or didn't get it), pretended to mentally debate whether or not I wanted to spend more than my Odyssexy payment for the next five months to have The Premium set of really nice knives. Then she showed me the price for my top five favorite knives, then my top three, and finally my favorite knife.

I could feed my family for a week on the price of the Spatula Spreader.

I told Sandra that if I bought these knives, I'd have to use the cleaver to hack off my family's fingers and toes and use the Turning Fork to sautee them in the sautee pan (with lid) so we could eat. She got the hint.

And finally, she handed me a piece of paper with a bunch of lines on it.

"Well, as you know, my business is built by referrals, so if you give me the name of three friends I could call to set up a demo, I can give you the vegetable peeler... FOR FREE!!!"

That explains it. Buffy sold me out for a fucking veggie peeler.

I wish they didn't have the Lifetime Guarantee because I'd love for it to fall apart the first time she uses it.

Now I wish I had bought the Spatula Spreader - just so that when you saw on the national news that a woman from From Whence She Came with visible tattoos was found twitching in a ditch with a Spatula Spreader sticking out of her neck, y'all could have a little chuckle.