Something weird is in the air today.
So, I'm at lunch with my buddy Baba. Just the two of us, and we're having a semi-animated discussion of the film "Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room." We're eating at Pluckers, this chicken wings place we frequent at least once a week, usually twice. Awesome wings.
But I digress.
So, as we're talking, suddenly a large-ish woman, 30s-40s, plants herself down right beside me in the booth, puts her arm around me, and pulls me in close in a semi-hug. I know lots of folks at this restaurant, so I reflexively half-hug her back, assuming it's one of the folks I know, before getting a look at her and realizing ....
Ummmm. No idea who this person is.
So, anyway, it's not like I've never been snuggled by complete strangers. It's just unusual for a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight without any alcohol involved. So I'm like "Hi" and she's like "Hi! I just had to ask you a question!"
So I say "OK, shoot." And she says, quietly in my ear, with a big smile on her face "So, are you the kind of guy that likes to pull a woman's hair and spank her ass hard in bed? Cause you look like that kind of guy to me!"
I admit, I was a bit ... at a loss. But I recovered.
"Well ... no. It's not really my thing. I'm not physically aggressive in the bedroom. But I mean, if people are into that that's cool. As long as everybody is on-board, you know?" And she says "Oh, really?" and I say "Yeah, really. It's not really my thing." And she says "Cause I really thought you looked like the kind of guy that would be into hair pulling and ass slapping! OK, bye!"
And she got up, stopped to hug one of the servers, Brent, on the way out, and left.
Now, Baba is sitting across from me, with a quizzical sort of "what was that all about?" look on his face, as she hadn't spoken loud enough for him to hear: he'd only heard my "not aggressive in the bedroom" comment which is certainly a perplexing, if engaging, snippet to work with. So I explain quickly (his eyes sort of went "huh?") and then I waved Brent over. After all, I assumed he must have put her up to it.
"Hey Brent! So, listen, who's that girl?"
"Oh, her? She's ... well, she's crazy is who she is."
"So, wait. You didn't send her over to ask me something?" And he's like "uhhhhh.... no."
So I filled him in and he just about dropped his tray. Nope, he absolutely had nothing to do with it. She's just kind of a local wackjob who apparently wanted me to ... well ... pull her hair and slap her ass a bunch, I guess. In bed. Not that there's anything wrong with that, if it's your thing. But me? Nah. Not so much. I'm vanilla, baby.
But I apparently throw a "mad crazy hair pulling ass slapping" kinda vibe. Whoodathunkit?
Mood: Bemused, in a surreal sort of way
Now Playing: Kate Bush, "The Sensual World"
3 comments:
I'm kind of excited to know I'm not vanilla!
Hey, don't knock vanilla! Vanilla's not boring: it's just subtle. Easy-goin'. Takes its time. Doesn't resort to all sorts of overpowering flavors to satisfy. And of course, it is well known that bare-naked ladies (or at least Barenaked Ladies) say that vanilla is the finest of the flavors....
Although I think I'm more of a Breyer's Vanilla (the one with theose naughty little vanilla bean specks in it) than a basic creamy vanilla. The specks make all the difference .... ;-)
That's the funniest story I've heard all month.
xoxoxxxo
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