Welcome Home, You Fucking Bitch

Last night Rach took me out for birthday cupcakes and tea after picking me up at the airport. We park. We walk towards tea destination, Rachel with the hot pink box of cupcakes in hand. We hear "Hey- got any leftovers?" I deferred to Rach since I'm usually the prickly one. She ignored it. So what logically follows? "HEY YOU FUCKING BITCH- got any leftovers???!!" Sigh. It's good to be home. No, really.