Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Stretching Republicans

The Libertarian called me on my birthday, which was very nice, and I got to talk to his son, who felt it was very important to tell me that he was watching Star Wars on TV. I was bowled over at how well he speaks, considering that he's not quite three and English is his second language. America, I could live an amused life if your three year olds called me regularly. And yesterday, I had lunch at the Mediterranean restaurant, which, I think, is just called "Mediterranean Cuisine." It's the one on 21st above Cheeseburger Charley's. I love their food and would eat their shawarma pockets every day, if I could. That is beside the point. The point is that when I was done eating, I saw a very small girl spot her mother from across the way and she was so excited that she threw her hands up over her head and danced around. So, America, let your 20-month-olds dance around all they want; that also makes me happy. One of the reasons the Libertarian called me was to ask what I got out of going to the college that we did. Aside from him and the Shill and the Super Genius? I didn't have an answer for him. But this morning, when I was out with the dog, I was thinking about the social dance class I took, and how this stiff Republican from my Russian class was always my partner, even though I was a pinko liberal. I don't know why he always picked me, but I think it's because he knew I didn't give a shit how awkward he was and we were roughly the same height. But one of the best days of dance class was when we didn't dance at all, but spent the hour and a half stretching and one of the stretches we did was where we sat back to back with our partners and one person would push as hard on the other person as she could so that the pusher's butt came off the ground and she was laying on the back of the stretcher so that he was pushed farther down between his opened legs than he normally could get. Anyway, I wanted him to do me first and he would not pick his butt up off the ground, because he didn't "want to hurt me." and I was like, "Dude, you can't hurt me, I promise. Just do it." So, finally, he put all his weight on me and I was like, "Hurray" and when I did it to him, he said "Wow, that is really nice." I think there's a lesson in there that was worth four years. I should have told that story to the Libertarian.


Blogger the Professor said...

We could try this out - but before eating all the peanutbutter cup dessert from a box.

5/24/2005 10:54:00 AM  
Blogger Peggasus said...

I would offer to have my 13-year old call you, but I doubt you would find him as charming as the three year old, or even the 20-month old. Those intervening years really make a BIG difference.

And speaking of the Shill (Hi, Shill!), it was lovely meeting her the other night. I wonder, did she go back and tell the Legal Eagle that I was not the Crazy-eyed Internet Stalker that he feared I would be? Cause I'm not. At least not most of the time.

5/24/2005 01:42:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

I'm glad to hear that you actually did get to meet. I haven't heard from her about it yet, but I'm tickled that it went well.

Ah, Professor, if ever there is a Tiny Cat Pants get together, I'm totally making those peanut butter things.

5/24/2005 01:59:00 PM  

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