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.
Showing posts with label epic chats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label epic chats. Show all posts
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.
Monday, August 16, 2010
SECRETS don't make FRIENDS!
Last week I got a mass email forward from a friend with some inspirational wisdom, something about letting go of stress and freeing yourself from the trapping of worry and frustration and la la la. I have no problem freeing myself from worry, but Husband? Husband is a ball of stress. So I replied to the friend saying I would send it to him, and then she replied saying she thought he was copied on there, so I went and looked at the recipients...and indeed, I saw an email address next to his name. An email address of which I had previously had NO. KNOWLEDGE.
Um?! Insert screeching tires track.
WHAT WAS THIS??????
I have known this man for 11 years and he's never had any more than one personal Yahoo account and only recently one work account. Earlier this year I tried unsuccessfully to switch him to Gmail and he was resistant. And yet HERE in front of my FACE was a GMAIL address with very identifiable details and his name next to it! I felt dread and fury swell up in my chest and color my face. And I knew in an instant that I HAD to break into that account and see what this secret shit was about.
(By the way, homegirl here has broken into TWO bitch ex-friends' email accounts to snoop, wreak havoc and erase contacts. Don't piss me off. I can do shit.)
I grimly exited all my windows and brought up a new browser page. Entered the previously-unknown (!!!) Gmail handle and clicked the forgot-password link. Chose to answer the secret verification question, typed in all his details, fingers stamping the keys, and then got hung up on the stupid question I was pretty sure I'd know. What was the name of his first teacher!? SERIOUSLY??? WE HAVE EVEN TALKED ABOUT THAT. GODDAMMIT!
I decided to break into the Yahoo account instead on the bet that I'd know the answers to those secret questions, and then just have Gmail email the password to Yahoo. Oh yes-- I know all the tricks. Usually. So I went to Yahoo and went through the whole rigmarole again, entered the deets, cracked the questions.....and then the screen said "Husband, you are verified! Create your new password below."
And then I couldn't do it.
Stupid, soft, not-desirous-of-trust-breaking wife. STUPID! SOFT! GUILTY-FEELING!
I had expended my unreasoning ire in the multiple steps required to break into his accounts and, unbidden, rationale came charging back to break up my party. I HATE YOU, RATIONALE.
So I emailed him instead, after closing the page to remove the temptation to set the password as "Di11hole."
By the end of the day I'd forgotten about it. Ha! No, it's true. I didn't remember until the next day when Husband had to do some work from home and left his Yahoo account open in a neighboring tab when he got up to take a break and get a soda. I hijacked that shit right away to look at Facebook and why was that tab blinking? Click....what is this? Anya Slutyakovska wants to be your Yahoo chat friend? WHAT?????
I am not a dummy. I know there are girly show spambots that want to friend you, chat with you on webcam and then infiltrate your computer and give it syphilis. I have had similar friend requests in my own Yahoo account (which isn't a secret). But that doesn't mean I didn't give him some maaaad shit for it. :D
Um?! Insert screeching tires track.
WHAT WAS THIS??????
I have known this man for 11 years and he's never had any more than one personal Yahoo account and only recently one work account. Earlier this year I tried unsuccessfully to switch him to Gmail and he was resistant. And yet HERE in front of my FACE was a GMAIL address with very identifiable details and his name next to it! I felt dread and fury swell up in my chest and color my face. And I knew in an instant that I HAD to break into that account and see what this secret shit was about.
(By the way, homegirl here has broken into TWO bitch ex-friends' email accounts to snoop, wreak havoc and erase contacts. Don't piss me off. I can do shit.)
I grimly exited all my windows and brought up a new browser page. Entered the previously-unknown (!!!) Gmail handle and clicked the forgot-password link. Chose to answer the secret verification question, typed in all his details, fingers stamping the keys, and then got hung up on the stupid question I was pretty sure I'd know. What was the name of his first teacher!? SERIOUSLY??? WE HAVE EVEN TALKED ABOUT THAT. GODDAMMIT!
I decided to break into the Yahoo account instead on the bet that I'd know the answers to those secret questions, and then just have Gmail email the password to Yahoo. Oh yes-- I know all the tricks. Usually. So I went to Yahoo and went through the whole rigmarole again, entered the deets, cracked the questions.....and then the screen said "Husband, you are verified! Create your new password below."
And then I couldn't do it.
Stupid, soft, not-desirous-of-trust-breaking wife. STUPID! SOFT! GUILTY-FEELING!
I had expended my unreasoning ire in the multiple steps required to break into his accounts and, unbidden, rationale came charging back to break up my party. I HATE YOU, RATIONALE.
So I emailed him instead, after closing the page to remove the temptation to set the password as "Di11hole."
From: Gini & Tonic
To: Husband
Re: WHY DO YOU HAVE A SECRET GMAIL ACCOUNT??????
Tell me immediately before I break into it and find out for myself. Because I can. MY FINGER IS ON THE BUTTON.
From: Husband
To: Gini & Tonic
Re: YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS
Uh, HELLO?!?!?!?!???? Spam box! Do you not have enough to do? I am seriously drowning in work over here. I might just let it pull me under and take me slowly to the bottom.
From: Gini & Tonic
To: Husband
Re: WHY DO YOU HAVE A SECRET GMAIL ACCOUNT??????
Oh yeah, I'm sure every husband caught with a secret email account has said that! Don't even try your Catholic guilt thing on me. If it's for spam, why does HALEY have it? Silly Haley sent a mass forward and included my address AND your secret one. Who else is secretly emailing you on it? How long have you had this under wraps? I HATE SECRETS, STOP WITH YOUR SECRET-KEEPING THIS INSTANT!
From: Husband
To: Gini & Tonic
Re: YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS
PSYCHO!! I am not keeping secrets, it is for spam. And why do you think Haley has it?? Obviously I don't want her stupid anti-vaccine forwards and inspirational quotes! (oh, the irony) Quit freaking out, I'll show it to you later. I have work to do.
From: Gini & Tonic
To: Husband
Re: WHY DO YOU HAVE A SECRET GMAIL ACCOUNT??????
Very convenient that you'll show it to me "later" after you've had all day to clean it up instead of just giving me the password.
From: Husband
To: Gini & Tonic
Re: YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS
I am not feeding your psychosis. WORKING NOW.
By the end of the day I'd forgotten about it. Ha! No, it's true. I didn't remember until the next day when Husband had to do some work from home and left his Yahoo account open in a neighboring tab when he got up to take a break and get a soda. I hijacked that shit right away to look at Facebook and why was that tab blinking? Click....what is this? Anya Slutyakovska wants to be your Yahoo chat friend? WHAT?????
I am not a dummy. I know there are girly show spambots that want to friend you, chat with you on webcam and then infiltrate your computer and give it syphilis. I have had similar friend requests in my own Yahoo account (which isn't a secret). But that doesn't mean I didn't give him some maaaad shit for it. :D
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