Snippet: Home Depot with Drake

Drake was here for a few days last weekend, so I recruited him to help me with a few jobs around the house and van. Handy-penis jobs. Putting together an Ikea bookcase, charging the AC in my van, figuring out how to cover my skylights so they don't let in so much heat.

In fact, at one point I found myself saying 9 words I never thought I'd say to my son: "Your penis must be much more powerful than his." He agreed, because what man wouldn't? There's a story, but who cares? All that matters is that my son has a powerful penis. He gets it from me.

Anyway, we were wandering the lighting aisles at Home Depot looking for outdoor light covers, when a short woman -- maybe 5' 2" -- middle-aged with short dark hair walked up to us. With no expression on her face nor inflection in her voice, she said, "Hello, my name is Jackie. We've partnered up with Logan Heating and Air. May I have a minute of your time to talk about your heating and air conditioning needs?" She looked like somebody had eaten her soul .... slowly.

At about the same time I said, "No, I already have 2 air conditioners and a furnace," and Drake said, "No, thanks. Not what we're here for."

Without changing her expression -- which wasn't really an expression at all -- she turned and walked slowly back the way she'd come, her back very straight, her expectations met.

Drake and I stared after her until she reached the end of the aisle, and then I turned our cart around and we started to walk the other direction. I was shaking my head, thinking how awful her job must be, when Drake stopped and said, "Did we just get a pop-up? Did we just get a pop-up right here in Home Depot?"

"Why, yes," I said. "Yes, I believe we did."

We both laughed and continued searching for the items on my list. I really need to update my pop-up blocker to include real life. I hope that's not a premium service that requires a penis to install.

Snippet from a church dinner

Quote of the night from the annual Thanksgiving dinner at my church:

"Reticula, sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that there's more to you than just vaginas."

(Disclaimer: Any quotations found on this blog are simply a reasonable facsimile of the conversation.)

Sunday snippets

Number 1

My daughter Elvira, talking about a recent blog post: One of those was about me, wasn't it? Which one was it? I know one of them had to be about me.

Me: I said right in the post they probably weren't about anybody who would be reading it, didn't I?

Elvira: Yeah, whatever. Which one is about me? It's number 1, isn't it? That one's for me.

Me: No, not really. But how about 10 and 11? 10 and 11 can be about you.

Elvira: Yes, but number 1 seems like it fits me better.

Me: OK. Number 1 can be about you if you want. The truth is I wrote one to you, and then I deleted it.

Elvira: Why would you delete mine? Was it bad?

Me: I deleted it because 10 and 11 can be about you. I didn't want to write you an anonymous comment about ..... something.

Elvira: Oh my god. I know what you wrote about.

Me: I don't think it does any good to guess ....

Elvira: You wrote about my eyebrows, didn't you? You were going to send me an anonymous message about my eyebrows.

Me: Your eyebrows? No, I .... why would I write about your eyebrows?

Elvira: I know that's it. What else could it be? It has to be about my eyebrows.

Me: I'm dumbfounded that you think I would blog about your eyebrows.

Elvira: You're always saying I over-pluck them and the other day you said they looked like plastic because I've been drawing them on with a Sharpie. That has to be what you wrote about.

Me: Yeah, OK. You're right. I wrote about your eyebrows and then decided it was too personal and passive aggressive to say something like that on my blog.

Elvira: I knew it.

Number 2

Elvira, picking up a white card from my dresser: What's this?

Me: What's what?

Elvira: This card ...  Oh my god! Mommers! What the hell is this?

Me, finally looking: Oh, that. It fell out of my bra last night when I was getting undressed after the wrap party for that horror short I produced, Medicine. I still haven't figured out why I didn't feel it in there before I ....

Elvira: Mommers! Even for you this is kind of shocking. How did this get into your bra?

Me: Well, we were playing Cards Against Humanity ....

Elvira: What kind of game is that? Is that a sex game? Were you at an orgy?

Me: It's a card game. Look on the other side. We were playing Cards Aga ...

Elvira, turning the card over: Oh, I see. Nevermind. I don't think I want to know.

Me: It wasn't anything like you .....

Elvira: Nope. Doesn't matter. Next subject. Can I borrow this lipstick?

Me: I need to return that card to its owner.

Elvira: I said I don't want to know. I'm taking this lipstick.

Number 3

Elvira's beloved, Rock Dad, agree to play lead guitar with Joe and another bass player and me at church a couple of weeks ago for a big service. He shows up at my house for practice with a sweet red Gibson SG. (My dream guitar.)

Me: Where did you get that SG? Is that for me?

Rock Dad: No, this is mine. I got it for me.

Me: If I can't afford an SG, you certainly can't. You borrowed it from the store, didn't you? (He works part-time in a guitar store.)

Rock Dad: No, really, it's mine. I bought it from a junkie down in the Oregon District.

Me: How much? Can I buy it from you? You know that's my dream guitar, right?

Rock Dad: I paid him $10, and no, you can't buy it from me. I'm keeping it.

Joe: No way! I can't believe you paid $10 for any Gibson. You bought it from a junkie?

Rock Dad: Yeah, he said he needed money, and I said I'd give him $7. He took it.

Me: You paid $10 for a Gibson SG, and you're not going to give it to me? What kind of son-in-law are you going to be? That's just wrong. I rescind your invitation to Christmas.

Rock Dad: I really paid $7 for it, but I had to do some work on it so it came to $10.

Me: You don't want an SG, and I do. How about I trade you my Fender Strat? The pickup is broken on your Strat, and mine is perfect. That's fair. Back me up here, Joe.

Joe: I'm not getting into that, but that's an amazing deal on that guitar.

Rock Dad: I don't want your Strat. I just ordered a better pickup for my Strat.

Me: So you don't even need that guitar. You're going to be playing your Strat all the time. Plllleeeeaaaaasssssseeeee.....

Joe: That's a hell of a deal. I'm not sure if you're brilliant or evil.

Me, muttering as I give up and sit down at the piano: I think you're just selfish.

Rock Dad: I'm definitely evil.

Joe: I think maybe you're both.

Rock Dad: No, I'm just evil. If I were brilliant, I would have gotten his amp too.

Texts with Elvira: issue 47

Tonight, a couple of snippets from texts between me and my daughter, Elvira, followed by a question I really want the answer to.

Snippet #1

Elvira: Oh shit, Mommers. I still have your debit card.

Me: You can give it to me tomorrow.

Elvira: Oh good. So I have time to buy some ridiculous shit on ebay.

Me: Please don't. Unless you want me to move in with you.

Elvira: I dunno .... You cook, clean, and provide childcare ... Mmmk. You can bunk with Coraline.

Me: I'll want my own bedroom.

Elvira:  I guess you can have a pallet in the basement.

Me: Nope. I'm still holding out the hope that I will get laid someday.

Elvira: Jeez, Mom. Way to be needy.

Me: I've been practicing....

Snippet #2

Me: [11:19 pm] Oh god. I'm craving butter popcorn so much. Would it be so awful if I ate some buttered popcorn?

Elvira: I don't care what you eat. Just don't bitch about it later.

Me: Oh, shut up.

Oh. My. God. When did my daughter become my mother?

Snippet from band practice: disposal stories

I know. It's not really a band practice; it's a band rehearsal. But who ever says, "I've got band rehearsal" and maintains any level of cool at all? Nobody. It's fucking band practice and semantics be damned.

Yes, I really wrote that.

And now the snippet.

mouse

Reticula: [The band sits around my dining room table taking a break.] I had a really weird dream last night. It was the middle of the night -- in my dream, I mean -- and I walked into a kitchen, heard scrabbling in the sink, and realized a mouse was trapped in one side of the sink. I was trying to figure out how to get it out of there, and it started jumping, trying to get out. So I thought about getting something to put over the sink so it couldn't jump out and run around the rest of the house pooping everywhere. I thought about getting a big piece of mat board to cover the sink, but then I realized it wouldn't solve the problem to just trap it there. I needed to kill it. So I wondered how I could get it to go into the garbage disposal and .....

Joe: It takes longer than you think.

Chicken Grrrl: Euwwww. You killed a mouse in a garbage disposal?

Joe: No, I didn't say that. I just said it takes longer than you think to kill something with a garbage disposal.

Reticula: I thought it seemed like a humane enough way to dispose of a rodent. How long could it take? They have tiny bones.

Joe: I'm telling you it takes longer than you think. I have experience with killing animals. Remember we had rabbits and I froze one and roasted the other .... I didn't mean to do that.

Reticula: Yeah, but you didn't put them in the garbage disposal did you? Tell me you didn't do that .... 

Joe: No, they were already dead. I didn't need to.

Chicken Grrrl: This is so gross. Just tell us what you killed in a garbage disposal. I hope it wasn't a mammal.

setuptank.com

Joe: It was a plecostomus. 

Chicken Grrrl: What the hell is a plecostomus?

Reticula: It's a sucker fish. It sucks the algae off the sides of an aquarium.

Joe: Yeah, and they get really big. And I think it somehow got rid of all the other fish. It had to die.

Reticula: They get as big as the aquarium size allows, but they don't hurt other fish.

Joe: I don't know about that, but this one got big and it was the last one left. [Pause for a sip of cheap wine.] I think maybe I just got tired of taking care of the aquarium so it had to go. The point is it takes longer than you think.

Reticula: I had one get really big and I just took it to a pet store and they were glad to take it. Some people are looking for bigger fish ....

Joe: Oh. I guess I didn't consider that option. Like I said though, it takes longer than you think.

Reticula: Even when I woke up I couldn't think of a better way to take care of the problem. It had to be the garbage disposal. It would be pretty quick, wouldn't it? I mean the death?

Joe:  I'm telling you, it takes longer than you think.

[Chicken Grrrl: Head on table.]

Reticula: What the hell would you have done with a mouse that was trying to jump out of the sink? You can't just pick up a mouse with your hands. That would be worse than the garbage disposal.

Joe: I'm just saying ....

Reticula: I know. It takes longer than you think.

Joe: Should I tell you about the vicious hamster now?

Chicken Grrrl: That box of wine isn't empty, is it? I need another glass before we start practicing again.

Mmm. Richard Gere.
(source: imdb.com)

Note: Because this is a snippet, I didn't include the discussion we had about how people put gerbils up their poop chutes for sexual pleasure. Or rather about how Dan Savage says nobody really does that before he describe how people would do it if they did do it. Somehow that's worse than putting a live mouse or plecostomus in a garbage disposal. I'll sum it up by saying it takes longer than you think to safely set a gerbil loose in your ass. Safe for you, I mean. The gerbil was never safe once it was destined to travel up in somebody's colon.


(Also, no matter what you've heard. Richard Gere did not put a gerbil in his ass. That is an urban legend.)