Category Archives: true life 2001

dc blogger happy hour at atomic

Incidentally, I’m not the worst pool player in the world…I’m actually the worst pool player in the universe. Just ask Jenn. Maybe after some more practice I’ll be less of a danger to myself and others. Maybe after 20 or 30 more years of practice.

Here’s a valuable lesson Jenn and I learned: if you want any chance of winning it may be best not to play someone who casually mentions just as he’s about to break, and I quote, “we had a pooltable in my dorm at boarding school.” Things do not turn out pretty from there. Fun? Yes. Pretty? No.

spicy suction cups

My coworker gave me today’s goal: work the phrase “spicy suction cups” into as many conversations today as possible, as naturally as possible. Didn’t work. I had a perfect opportunity, but when I opened my mouth I found myself speaking only in Blondie lyrics. Then I couldn’t stop doing it. Clearly, it’s Monday.

Incidentally, I continue to believe that “Rapture” is one of the dumbest songs of all time.

Fade away and radiate, y’all.

Let’s Pretend This Never Happened

People like to tell me their problems, and that’s okay. However, I’ve come to the realization that people (women, specifically) also like to tell me about their undergarments.

About a half an hour ago I was in the ladies room, trying to get the automatic sink to let me wash my hands. The woman standing next to me – who I have never ever seen in my entire life – turned to me and stage-whispered “My panties have been inside out all day, do you think that’s okay?” Being an expert on these things, I assured her it was fine and then ran like hell.

The whole exchange got me to thinking. The Sex and the City underwear query, the inside-out-underwear woman, what does it all mean? I remembered an incident back in October where the waitress at the Waffle House in Staunton Virginia chose to inform the cook that she wasn’t wearing any underwear while she was refreshing my coffee. So many weird panty-related incidents, clearly increasing in frequency. I wish I could figure out what it all means.

No, I take that back. I have zero desire to know what this all means. Zip. None. Nada. Forget I even mentioned it.