Butt, WHAT did you ask?

Today at class a bunch of us ladies were just yakking like we usually do before it starts.  We have a pretty good rapport going on and everybody has a good sense of humor.  One of the regulars brought her sister from Los Angeles to class today. 

Perhaps Southern California culture allows for plastic surgery/beauty parlor inquiries as a way of initiating small talk with strangers.  She asked me, "Wow, where do you get your nails done and who did your butt?"

Come again?  W-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-t did you just ask me?  Thank goddesses I have a sense of humor and I was not in the mood to unleash my icy, well-deserved wrath on the rude, inconsiderate, and socially inept. 

My hands and nails?  Mine.  I do get them polished, but I can thank my mother's genetics for my nails that grow like weeds.

My butt?  Also mine.  I can thank my paternal grandmother for my generous curves. 

I guess having body parts that were not purchased is an anomaly in Southern CA.  She didn't know what to say when I said I was not manufactured (I kept my tone friendly and light).   I guess having a curvy butt is very *in* right now and it's all the Hollywood fashion rage to have butt implants to the point of looking somewhat borderline freak-ish.  Having junk in your trunk is desirable these days.  The "complimentor" went on to say how the Kardiashians started the trend and it has caught on like wildfire.  Sorry, I don't watch the show.  I don't follow trends,.  I wear what I like and I am who I am -- whether or not happens to be "in"

So was I complimented or insulted?  She obviously noticed my curvy, large butt.  No matter.  I've dealt with bigger social morons and was not out to make an instant enemy.  I give everybody more than one chance.  It's the established pattern that turns me to the person you're sorry you have crossed.