“I don't want to call her a shallow bitch, but she earns it.”

“If she doesn't want to be friends with us, I certainly don't want to be friends with her. Hell, I didn't like the bitch anyway.”

“She was at a cash register, screaming at a customer. She was, in fact, calling this customer a bitch. I touched her arm and said, “I have to go now.” She laid her hand on my shoulder, squeezed it gently, and continued her conversation, saying, “Don’t tell the store president I called you a bitch. Tell him I called you a fucking bitch, because that’s exactly what you are. Now get out of my sight before I do something we both regret.”

“Don't call a woman a bitch. Call her an ass-hole. It still gets your point across and it's not sexist.”

“Life's not a bitch, life is a beautiful woman, you only call her a bitch 'cause she won't let you get that pussy.”

“Great." I didn't say thank you, because it seemed wrong. I wanted to call her a bitch and shoot her between the eyes, but then I would have had to shoot Enzo, too. And how would I explain that to the police? She was breaking no laws. Dammit.”