Have you ever sent a text (or email, or just had a conversation) where you thought to yourself “Self, what would other people say if they saw this message?” Well, I had one of those exchanges just the other night (hint: there was wine involved. And bad reality TV.) I realized that when text messages go wrong, they often end up hilarious (to me). So, I thought I would share. It is pretty long, so you may want to save this for when you are in the bathroom, or have insomnia. This is exactly how the conversation went:
My friend the Star Wars junkie (SWJ): You’ve been a writing machine lately! I like reading your stuff and it seems like there is a new post every day.
Me: Mon/Wed/Fri is the posting schedule. Every day might be a bit much.
Me: I think my next post might have to be about the MTV Challenge. Yes, I am 42 years old and still watch it. Only a little embarrassed about that.
SWJ: HA! I never would have guessed! Don’t be ashamed. [My partner] just cut me off from purchasing any more Star Wars stuff. Apparently people are starting to talk. After an incident with my doctor, I went shopping for more clothes that were more, shall we say, adult in nature. (Adult in nature = buttons, and no Star Wars anything.)
I will say, at this point, I did have a rather hideous mental image of some of the “Adult” items worn at Fantasy Fest, and thought to myself that clearly the Star Wars look is better than a French Maid outfit, right?
Me: Well, that is no fun. The reason to have your own business is so you can dress like a 10 year old. (The same reason I wear yoga pants every day.)
Me: Um… what “incident”
SWJ: I went to see my doctor a few weeks ago when I had the flu. In my Nyquil-fueled state I arrived with a Star Wars t-shirt, Star Wars backpack, an R2D2 raincoat and my tiny Star Wars keychain. She made a comment about my apparel.
SWJ: Then a giddy R2D2 ringtone bleeps from my phone. And my iPad. “You have a problem,” she told me. “Is that your professional opinion?” I asked. She replied “I can’t imagine it wouldn’t be everyone’s opinion. You’re 44, right?“
SWJ: I have no words.
Me: I read this to FKGuy and frankly, we don’t see the problem. She needs to work on her bedside manner and stop being so judgmental.
SWJ: Right? And less stingy with the Vicodin.
Me: Seriously, If you were obsessed with Hello Kitty, I would be more judge-y (and WTF is up with Hello Kitty not being a cat? It’s in her damn name!)
SWJ: Wait… what? She is not a cat? I always just assumed it was some sort of affordable fetish for girlfriends of broke hipsters. Like 50% off shades of gray.
SWJ: I just realized you are probably throwing your Hello Kitty pillow behind the couch in shame.
Me: If such a pillow did exist, clearly Latke would have chewed her and her anatomically incorrect, marshmallow-man-like features by now.
SWJ: Which begs the question: Is there an anatomically correct marshmallow man?
Me: There is way too much research involved in finding that answer.
SWJ: How do you already know that? HOW???
Me: Check mate.
Me: OK, so this conversation just happened… “He got a big Star Wars thing in the mail today”
- FKGuy: What kind of thing?
- Me: You know. The space ship thing.
- FKGuy: The Millennium Falcon? YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THE MILLENNIUM FALCON IS???
- Me: Sure I do. It’s the space ship thingy. That is what I just said.
And that, my friends, is what happens when you have reality television, wine, and a friend you haven’t had a real conversation with in a while all wrapped in to one unfortunately long text message. Plus, it should be a lesson to you: don’t text me stuff that you don’t want to end up on the blog. Happy Friday. I’ll report on this weekend’s fun starting on Monday.
