It seems like lately I've been subjected to such awesome conversations that I think this warrants the creation of a new label: epic chats. So here's another one I had last night with a guy in my class. He was actually much more loquacious than this, volunteered many details about the procedure, but I'll truncate the conversation for space and attention's sake.
Him: When's your baby due? Know what it is?
Me: Mid-July and it's a boy.
Him: Me and my wife, we just had our third boy. We were trying for a girl but no dice.
Me: Oh, you gonna try again or are three rug rats enough for you?
Him: Nah, I got the old snip-snip last week. She has a girl from her first marriage anyway, so we got four kids total. We're both way too fertile I guess, seems like every time I poked her she got pregnant!
Me: Ah, heh. At least you know when you're ready to stop!
Him: Yeah, a vasectomy ain't too bad. Your husband-- you guys are married?-- he ever want one, mine was great. I just walked in there, he cupped my junk for a bit while we talked about it. Then the procedure took like 15 minutes. They don't let you watch so I just read a magazine while they shaved me and put some numbing gel on my bits, then I felt a little pinch on my sac skin for the local. And then I didn't feel nothing else.
Me: Oh.....how long before you got to walk out of there?
Him: About an hour. And my hair's starting to grow back so I don't look like a twink no more, my wife liked to tease me that I have gay balls 'cause they were hairless. And then yesterday I got a text from the doctor sayin "How's your pecker doin?" Haha! You know it's a good doctor when they ask about your pecker.
SO. For all you peckerheads out there, you now have some very specific criteria for choosing your next vasectomist.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
What Not to Say
The director of my department has been here for less than a year. Super nice dude with a penchant for long-windedness and excessive formality, which made what just transpired extra weird. He's from another country so he has a pronounced accent. Accordingly, assign the accent of your choice to the below interaction.
Director: I learned you are expecting! Congratulations! Give me a hug!
Me: Thank you! Um, okay. *commence awkward hug*
Director: You are how far along? You are not exercising, are you?
Me: 26 weeks, and I am. I just do my usual yoga, nothing too strenuous.
Director: Oh, because my wife, she was a workout freak and because of it, she lost our child recently.
Me: Oh gosh, I'm so sorry about your baby!
Director: Yes. She was always running (he runs in place, tie flapping) and lifting weights (he mimes weightlifting, huffing and puffing his cheeks) and I followed her around the gym sometimes asking her to cool it (he outstretches his arms as if in supplication), but she would not. And then the baby died. So don't you exercise too hard! No running, it will fall right out!
Me: .......
Director: It was probably my boy, too. You are having a boy?
Me: *nod*
Director: Oh, that is such a joy for your husband! I have had three girls. Such a disappointment.
Me: Oh but, nobody can love you quite like your little girls can! I'm sure they adore you.
Director: The younger two, they are okay. The oldest, all she says to me is "Hey! Can I have some money." Well no, it doesn't work like that! But you don't have to worry, you are having a boy. It is so important for a man to have his boy.
Some thoughts--
*As long as a woman has a workout routine firmly-established, continuing it throughout a pregnancy is generally accepted as fine with a doctor's okay.
*However, on what planet is it okay to trash one's wife, who actually suffered the miscarriage, for such a tragedy?
*Why would someone share such an intimate story with a subordinate one barely knows?
*Do not scold me for engaging in something as low-impact as yoga. Ever.
*What if I was having a girl?
*Did he not notice that I am female, which is how I'm able to carry a child in the first place, and therefore someone else's daughter? A much-loved one, I might add.
*Despite my laughing in disbelief as I tell this story, I have to say-- what a terribly, terribly sad man.
*And how much sadder is his wife to be married to someone who blames her so completely that he'd feel free to tell me about it?
As he walked away, I noticed his pant leg was hooked up over the garter on his sock, showing the back of his bristly calf. A result of the running in place. It looked stupid. But I didn't say anything.
Director: I learned you are expecting! Congratulations! Give me a hug!
Me: Thank you! Um, okay. *commence awkward hug*
Director: You are how far along? You are not exercising, are you?
Me: 26 weeks, and I am. I just do my usual yoga, nothing too strenuous.
Director: Oh, because my wife, she was a workout freak and because of it, she lost our child recently.
Me: Oh gosh, I'm so sorry about your baby!
Director: Yes. She was always running (he runs in place, tie flapping) and lifting weights (he mimes weightlifting, huffing and puffing his cheeks) and I followed her around the gym sometimes asking her to cool it (he outstretches his arms as if in supplication), but she would not. And then the baby died. So don't you exercise too hard! No running, it will fall right out!
Me: .......
Director: It was probably my boy, too. You are having a boy?
Me: *nod*
Director: Oh, that is such a joy for your husband! I have had three girls. Such a disappointment.
Me: Oh but, nobody can love you quite like your little girls can! I'm sure they adore you.
Director: The younger two, they are okay. The oldest, all she says to me is "Hey! Can I have some money." Well no, it doesn't work like that! But you don't have to worry, you are having a boy. It is so important for a man to have his boy.
Some thoughts--
*As long as a woman has a workout routine firmly-established, continuing it throughout a pregnancy is generally accepted as fine with a doctor's okay.
*However, on what planet is it okay to trash one's wife, who actually suffered the miscarriage, for such a tragedy?
*Why would someone share such an intimate story with a subordinate one barely knows?
*Do not scold me for engaging in something as low-impact as yoga. Ever.
*What if I was having a girl?
*Did he not notice that I am female, which is how I'm able to carry a child in the first place, and therefore someone else's daughter? A much-loved one, I might add.
*Despite my laughing in disbelief as I tell this story, I have to say-- what a terribly, terribly sad man.
*And how much sadder is his wife to be married to someone who blames her so completely that he'd feel free to tell me about it?
As he walked away, I noticed his pant leg was hooked up over the garter on his sock, showing the back of his bristly calf. A result of the running in place. It looked stupid. But I didn't say anything.
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