A True Story (Warning: Lowbrow Humor Ahead)

In which Deb uses comical words to substitute for anatomical terms.


Lately, I have become fascinated with the awkward. There is a new blog that I love called "Awkward Family Photos," in which the mundane and uncomfortable becomes hilarious. If you have some time, check them out. Hilarity will ensue.

My new obsession with awkward has inspired me to share the most awkward story I know. The following is a completely true story that totally did not happen to me, so it's hilarious.

Sven's longtime dear friend, whom I shall call "Bosephus" for the purpose of this blog entry, had just gotten engaged. He had met his fiancee's parents before, but relations were cool. He was at their home for dinner, entertaining them as only he can, attempting to thaw the relationship a little bit.

You see, Bosephus is a parent's darling. Everyone's parents love Bosephus. My parents love Bosephus. My dad loved Bosephus so much he took Bosephus' word about a situation over mine. Bosephus is awesome.

But Bosephus' future in-laws were not feeling the love.

So Bosephus was engrossed in telling a story, complete with illustrative hand gestures, when his index finger, hereinafter referred to as his "pointer," became stuck.

His lovely fiancee, Marigold, had approached him from behind to clear away dishes or something. Somehow, her body was at precisely the wrong angle when he made precisely the wrong gesture, and his pointer was stopped by the region of her pants I shall call her "kerplonk."

I'm sorry for being so graphic, but it is what it is.

So now, Bosephus was faced with a situation: there he was, in front of his beloved's parents, with his pointer right there, "kerplonked," as it were.

(At this point, I should stress that, although this has taken a great deal of time to write, and I'm sure read, it all happened very quickly in real life. Bosephus would also like me to stress that everyone was wearing several layers of very modest clothing, including no less than 17 pair of gloves and what may have been East Texas' only functional pair of snow pants.)

What do I do? he wondered. Do I pretend it didn't happen and just keep going? Do I laugh it off? Should I make some sort of comical popping sound when I move my hand? What should I do?

He looked to his fiancee, who helpfully made the following noise:

"Voip."

One way or another, the evening lurched on. Bosephus and Marigold were married and today have many wonderful children. This tiny awkwardness was forgotten by all.

Except by me. Because this story has made me laugh for more than ten years now. I hope it made you all laugh too, you lowbrow things, you.

Games

I don't like it when people say things they don't mean for the sake of social convention.

I don't like it when people assume I'm saying things for the sake of social convention.

I never know when to respond to the statement as though it were heartfelt, or if I should give the polite, social response.

Example:

Deb: Hello, Old Friend! Who I haven't spoken to in years!

Old Friend: Hey! So good to see you! We should get together and catch up!

Deb: {Okay, does she really mean it? Should I suggest a time or day? Or is she just saying it to be nice? Pause growing awkward, say something!} Oh, that would be great!

Old Friend: Yeah, let's make sure to do that! {Exit}

Deb: Will never happen. {tear}

But I wonder...maybe Old Friend misread me. Maybe she was waiting for a clearer indication from me that I really wanted to get together. Hmmmm....

Old Friend 2: Hey, Deb! Great to see you!

Deb: It's great to see you! We should get together and catch up! {Oh no, it's on me now...}

Old Friend 2: We should!

Deb: How about lunch next week sometime?

Old Friend 2: I'll have to check my schedule and get back to you. It was great to see you! {Exit}

Deb: Dang.

Of course, I recognize that this isn't just me. It just feels that way, because I'm so introverted. I live in my head about 80% of the time, so putting things "out there" is scary. I don't think I'm completely socially inept (though rereading this entry has moved me to consume a Cookie of Shame), but sometimes the social niceties irritate me. My ideal conversation with my old friend:

Old Friend: Deb! It's great to see you!

Deb: It's great to see you! I would actually like to spend some time with you!

Old Friend: Me, too! I suggest you and I meet at this restaurant tonight to have dinner!

Deb: I would enjoy that very much.

-Or-

Old Friend: Deb! It's great to see you!

Deb: Me, too! Although I wouldn't care to continue a lengthy conversation with you, I would like a brief update on what has happened in your life in the past twenty years!

Old Friend: I actually don't care that much about you, please just tell me how many kids you have and what you do for a living!

Deb: Will do! This was great!

Old Friend: See ya!

Fin.