Friday, November 11, 2005

Lunch with W.

Lately, there seems to be an informal and lovely tradition of my readers taking me out to eat. Today was W.'s turn. We went to the Mellow Mushroom. I had half a steak and cheese sandwich. W. had something that came with a heap of sprouts on top, which struck me as funny. Not the sprouts, but the vast amount of them, as if a person might want to build himself a little wall of alfalfa sprouts in order to hide behind them from the crazy blogger lady across the table. Since W. is an engineer, I've no doubt he could have designed a very sturdy wall out of all of those sprouts, if he'd felt like it. He did not. He did, however, come up with the most ingenious idea, which I now share with you. Seeing as how old men find me so irresistible they must stop and offer me rides as I'm walking home and seeing as how I have a dog that can leap from behind a chair over the top of the chair and into the laps of unsuspecting patrons of said chair, W. proposes that I use my odd ability to attract the affections of old men to attract the affections of a rich old man. Upon marrying him, I let the dog leap over the back of the chair and into his lap, thus causing him to have a heart attack, thus leaving me so wealthy that I can have a chauffeur drive delightfully tiny hors d'oeuvres around to all my readers, starting with W., since he came up with the idea. I gave W. his afghan, which he either liked or faked liking sufficiently enough to please me. I think he was expecting something more frou-frou looking, or at least more green, but it was, as promised, sufficiently manly. He also had this brilliant idea that I should make up t-shirts for liberals to wear that would say "Yes, Republicans, We are Fuckers!" But the more I think about it, the more that seems like the kind of shirt that might be misconstrued, depending on where the line-breaks went, and if there's anyone you don't want misconstruing things, it's people who are well-armed. I have been thinking, though, that a perfect T-shirt might read "Tool of the Patriarchy." Anyway, it's delightful and strange to meet y'all and I hope you find me strange and delightful in return.

14 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Now B, just for the record, the t-shirts were your idea. I merely encouraged the marketing, and manufacturing. And promised to buy some for Christmas presents. Maybe if you added 'too' on the end...

How about one that says "Tool of Third Wave Feminist"??

W

11/11/2005 06:14:00 PM  
Blogger rugdesigner said...

Yes, dear B, you are most delightful. W could be on to something with the chauffeur...

I've been working on cotton farmer pictures all day... ;-)

11/11/2005 10:20:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Maybe there's something in the way you walk that says to old men, "I'm rich and I could drop dead at any second", and they are picking you up in the hopes of funding THEIR retirement.

Who's the spider and who's the fly?

11/12/2005 07:06:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Ooo, I do like the idea of a t-shirt that says "Tool of the Third Wave Feminists." See, W., you have a second career as a t-shirt designer, I know it.

Mmm. Cotton-picking boys. Rug Designer, you do know how to entice a girl.

Exador, I'm certain there's something in the way I walk--especially when I've already tromped through the park and up the hill--that says I could drop dead at any minute, but no one is going to look at my stylish orange jacket and my ratty tennis shoes and say "There's a chick with some money."

I have previously been mistaken for a hooker while out walking, so I'm kind of leaning towards that explaination. Though, what that says about the hookers in Nashville is pretty shocking. Don't they get dressed up in the least? Don't they pick more practical locations to ply their trade?

11/12/2005 07:39:00 AM  
Blogger grandefille said...

Lord, the hookers in Nashville have no shame. Or taste. It's sad.

B, how about a shirt that just says "Fuck Republicans"?

Actually, I've been thinking about a t-shirt that says what my old boyfriend used to say: "Fuck all y'all, then." It's the Southern version of Cartman's "Screw you guys, I'm going home." With a soup├žon of bourbon and branch. Or maybe just Pabst.

Jesus. There is somebody in this office building playing speed metal at an alarming volume. As in, so loud it's making my teeth hurt. On a Saturday morning. I don't think I want to know who it is, either. I just want to finish this work. Eeek.

11/12/2005 08:24:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Speaking of Southern boys, I also told W. of my great theory about why the South really lost the Civil War, but I thought better of including it, because I didn't want to outrage anyone.

But I do like a shirt that says "Fuck Republicans"--both offensive and might get you lucky.

11/12/2005 11:01:00 AM  
Blogger Exador said...

Why am I guessing that your civil war theory has nothing to do with resources or industrial base?

Personally, I like the "Fuck Republicans" T-shirt.

Make Love, Not War.

11/12/2005 12:06:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

No, it has to do with your friend Sarcastro, but I so like it when he's apologizing to me that I'm loathe to say anything that will make him the aggrieve party in this friendship.

11/12/2005 12:09:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Let's not forget that 90% of the men in the "progressive" movement are in it to nail the ignorant hippie chicks.
The other 10% are gay.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

11/12/2005 12:14:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Argh, stick a "d" on the end of aggrieve.

Anyway, I think you underestimate the brains of us hippie chicks. We know why the straight boys are there. How else do you think we get them in the dresses? Of course we know what they want.

11/12/2005 12:19:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

I've tried overestimating the brains of hippie chicks and it's bitten me in ass every time.

We are all products of our experiences.

Or sums. Which one is addition and which one is multiplication?
Because multiplication doesn't make any sense.

11/12/2005 01:34:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

God god, man! You don't even know me and already you're insulting me? Maybe we hippie chicks are just playing stupid so you'll go away.

11/12/2005 02:44:00 PM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Yer doin' a heck of a job, hippie.

11/12/2005 02:51:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Well, I have to appear smart enough to entice him into hearing about my awesome Civil War theory, because it's too brilliant not to share. But after that...

11/12/2005 02:56:00 PM  

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