Tuesday, October 16, 2007

2:00 Confussion

The fabulous Vietnamese lunch was working its way through my GI tract, triggering whatever process typically gets triggered after lunch. About one hour had passed. It was time to take a walk down the hall.

I have followed this pattern enough times, thus far, that after five months, our semi-witty and mostly-wicked receptionist has figured it out. If it's two o'clock, and I'm walking down the hall, she knows exactly where I am going.

Which is fortunate, as today, there were client-like folks gathered about in the foyer, and I was not at liberty to announce my short-term excretory intentions.

As I passed the front desk, though, I discovered an attractive young woman in ironic hipster military wear standing there. She was quite tall and thin. Her lustrous curly hair obscuring the fine porcelain features of her face. Her tight jeans accentuated all of the important curves...

I walked out the door and down the hall. A few minutes later, and about five pounds lighter, I returned to the office. The young woman was still standing there talking to her attorney, but something was odd. It was her voice. It was very deep.

Deep, like Dennis Haysbert deep. It didn't fit. She was kinda hot, but sounded like a dude, a scary sounding dude.

I sent an electronic sticky note to the front desk, saying: "hey man, is that another tranny out there?"

(We've seen a few...)

"Why," came the response, "do you want some?"

(You'd think I'd get more respect...)

"No. Not this time. It's just that the voice doesn't match the rest of the package. She must be a tranny, right? A pretty good one?"

"Uh, no man," replied the surly receptionist, "He's a dude."

"Right," I said, " I get that, but he looks like a chick, right?"

"No, dude, he's all dude."

"But I though he was a hot chick. Does that make me gay?"

Well, you can guess what her response was. Anyway, apparently, I didn't really get a good look, and you know these crazy metrosexual guys these days... Well, hell, how about those Cowboys, huh? And the Rockies sweeping the National League...

And, wow, I really like to look at female boobs on women. Really. Hurray for boobs...

Ya, I'm gonna go turn some bolts on my car now. Chop some wood. Maybe I'll punch something too.


  1. At least your receptionist knows what we have known for 13 years - you're gay. And not the happy carefree and friendly kind, but the "I like dudes in tight pants kind."

    But I still love you . . . does that make me gay too?

  2. Hmmm... there's deep octaves, and then there's Dennis Haysbert deep - and that's pretty close to James Earl Jones deep...serious deep.

    Any "girl" that sounds like that, you should run from. Don't let your eyes decieve you.

    Brian, rather than focusing on your "preferences" I'll just say that its like finding the dinosaur in those dot-pictures. You have to genuinely want to find the dino in order to see it.
    You love women so much, that you're genuinely looking for hot women wherever you can find them... even if they're not there.

    Either that - or you like men dressed as girls. Must be a prison thing. Whatever....

  3. Either that - or you like men dressed as girls.

    "military wear" constitutes a girly outfit? Hmmm...

  4. Excellent analysis, Mitch.

  5. Dude, you are not allowed around my boys. We are definately not going out in the baby blue convertible Mustang again. I'm going to revoke your man card.

  6. did you do him in the butt?


Be compelling.

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