Was unusually social last week. I try to avoid being social on school days as much as possible for entirely arbitrary and irrational reasons.
I enjoy my downtime, which is code for being anti-social. I especially like grumbling about having to be social. It’s an irritating hobby I like cultivating. (The ex, understandably, hates it.)
Monty’s birthday meeting at the Comedy Club. My yellow shoes both split on the sole. Something I belatedly discovered as I was walking through the bloody pouring rain with my socks slowly but surely getting soaked sole-side upwards.
It was improv night at the Comedy Club. I was cracking up for most of the 2 hours but the ex didn’t laugh much.
In the last couple of months the ex has told me the first 2 jokes ever. In the 7 years we’ve been together the ex has never been able to either remember a punch-line or tell a joke without feeling shy halfway and giving up.
Here’s the first joke (which I like a lot)
Q. What do you call a horse in costume?
Went out to dinner with the work crew on to a Korean BBQ place just off Carnaby Street. They bring you raw marinated meat for you to cook at the table which has an inset gas-grill in it. Delicious and simultaneously entertaining.
P. asked a rhetorical question as we stood outside smoking a pre-dinner fag -Who has the bigger boobs: Me or MD? (MD is a chubby asian man). MD was declared the winner, although happily for both parties, there is no real comparison.
Discovered my new favorite drink – a yellow plum wine with little yellow pickled plums floating in the bottle. It’s called Umeshu (which literally translates to plum wine), and is traditionally drunk in a tiny shot glass. My boss kept refilling our glasses until everyone except the pregnant girl at work and MD were tipsy. They were teasing J about her copper boyfriend and how she must have developed a predilection for handcuffs, batons & tazers. A. also kept shouting
“Das ist Verboten!”
at her across the table. (J is part German)
During the post-dinner fag, an absolutely plastered girl with bleached blonde hair and red faded lipstick, came up to MD and had an intense physical reaction to his name (which is Chinese and sounds like ‘Man’ + ‘D’ – a synonym for penis). She violently mimed a certain action or act, shall we say, in a most enthusiastic manner. Had there actually been a penis there, doubtless she would have yanked it right off. MD was very happy nonetheless.
Then the drunk girl kissed both of our hands, stroked my face and said I was “so pretty”.
She followed that with a suggestion that I should have sex with MD just because of his name while clapping him on the shoulder in a jovial sort of way. Like it was a casual polite suggestion she always made out of consideration to smokers standing outside Korean joints.
We said goodbye and she staggered off, nearly walked into a bollard, asking after she had done so,
“Hey! Who put that there?”
Went for dinner with a heavily (heavily!) pregnant woman and her husband.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that!