funny bit tonight at dinner…….
husband and i live in a fair sized house, and have for 11 and some years. lately, in the midst of a hideous economy, and job downturn we’ve taken in a boarder…..a roommate, if you will. a very nice, pleasant chap of german persuasion. as in, he’s from cologne (no, not the smell, the city in germany). he’s younger than we are by a decade or more, and by far much hotter, in gay lingo……he’s single, so he maintains a very youthful decorum. tall, lean, blond eyes, blue hair, (or is it the other way around?), and perfectly charming in his european way.
today was an absolutely lovely summer day in south florida, (boy, talk about an oxymoron…..it was freaking’ hot!) and we, roommate and i took some time at the pool. me of course, in the shade………i feel that skin like a louis vuitton bag is way overrated, and he lying in the hot florida sun. afterwards, i did stuff around the house and he napped, so when he awoke to come eat dinner, his face was a little smooshed from the nap, and red from the sun. over dinner, the three of us chatted and laughed, and then this dialogue ensued…………
husband: roommate? are you going out this evening? a fine saturday night out in gay fort lauderdale?
roommate: yes, of course. there are boys to meet out there.
husband: you know, roommate, this evening, i seem to be noticing that there are these “bags” under your eyes.
roommate: excuse me? say what?
husband: yes, these excessively bulbous areas under your eyes, they seem puffy tonight. and along with your reddened skin, i couldn’t help but notice.
roommate: what’s that about my skin? excessively bulbous areas? me: husband, that’s not very nice. even if it’s true it’s not nice to say aloud.
husband: why not? we’re friends. we can be honest.
me: ok, you’re a 65 yr old, paunchy, balding sloth. still all cheery about honestly, honey?
husband: no, i’m just saying, i’ve seen him look better.
me: mary, we’ve all looked better, so knock it off.
roommate: where exactly is the puffiness?
husband: here, he said. (and then he began touching his bags).
me: (screaming), stop it! leave his bags alone. even if he has them, please don't do this.
husband: i don’t see what’s wrong with it.
roommate: (sobbing softly), maybe i won’t go out tonight.
husband: you know, i hear from all my old queen friends, that if you daub a little preparation H under the eyes it shrinks the bags, and is kind of like a gay face lift.
me: no, no, don’t listen to him. a little moisturizer and you’ll be fine. (and now i realize i’m as bad as husband. he doesn’t need to moisturize unless he thinks so. suddenly i’m an asshole too).
oh the tangled web we weave.........
roommate: ok, dinner was great. i’m going into the bathroom now. (and we all know there are mirrors in there).
me: husband……not nice. you want to be his friend, notice a little less. you know……..less is more.
husband: sloth? you really think i’m a sloth?
me: the 65 year old, paunchy shit didn’t hurt? just the “sloth” part? oy……you goyim are so amusing.
roommate: (shrieking from the bathroom) omg, my face is a fucking gucci bag!!!!
me: husband, now see what you’ve done!
husband: roommate, it’s not that bad.
me: oh, nice consolation.
roommate: (emerging slowly, face covered with cream). i’ll be fine in a few minutes. the superiority of my european skin will prevail.
moral of the story. (wow, this far into this many nights and i don’t think we’ve had a moral yet. well, first time for everything.) the moral of the story is, eat your goddam pasta and keep your opinions to yourself, lest you set off an international incident.