When I was 16 years old my dad starting dating this 20 year old stripper from Tampa.
(I know, you're wondering how I'm so, so well-adjusted.)
Apparently, he was at the bar (Surprise, surprise.) and she walked over to him and mussed his hair. Read what you will from that. And voila a truly great 6 week romance began.
We went to dinner this one time, the three of us, and she was complaining about having to drive all the way to Orlando to go to work. She didn't know that I knew she was a stripper and she had this whole elaborate ruse going on trying to talk about her 'Office' and her 'Co-workers' and about 9 million mixed metaphors for the VIP room, any of which I cannot remember. I'm truly kicking myself about it too because some of them were pretty good. I then asked if she lived in Orlando and she said no, she lived in Tampa.
Well, I didn't ask anything then mostly because I was having a hard time trying to keep my dinner down from watching the two of them act like they were my age. Seriously, they played footsies. I know because I got caught up in the fray once or twice. (Again, you wonder why I'm not shell-shocked.) On top of this Stripper-Girl is carrying on this inane charade of trying to be mature and sickeningly maternal. Nevermind that she was a whole 4 years and some change older than me; she seriously wore a pant-suit and sweater. But she was a stripper so she just looked a whorey office stripper instead of a mature, matronly figure. Now before you assume that I hated her because she was a stripper I'll say this: I didn't hate her because she was a stripper, I hated her because she was stupid enough to date my father. And assume it wasn't going to end disastrously. I have no patience for idiocy for the sake of idiocy. And blatant denial.
After dinner and a refusal of ice-cream on my part -- Whaaaat? I know I refused ice cream and only loony tunes do that but there was no way in hell I was going to continue participating in this pathetic attempt at family normalcy or whatever it was they were trying to accomplish with this whole hanging out together business -- I finally inquired as to why she just didn't move to Orlando.
And she replied with the only honest thing I believe she said to me all evening: 'I work in one town and live in another so I can party and not run into my co-workers. I can keep my professional and personal lives separate.'
I imagine what she was really going for is that she didn't want to run into any of her 'co-workers' -- read clients here -- when she was dropping her kid off at kindergarten. I get it, it makes sense.
And That ladies and gents is why I work in one town and live in another. So that my co-workers are never privy to my drunken ramblings and stumblings and general debauchery.
But they've met me so I'm sure they're aware.
One of those mixed metaphors for the VIP room was probably "giving a presentation in the conference room"
ReplyDeleteAt least that's what I say when...uh I mean that's what I WOULD HAVE said if I was her.
I don't know if I could've kept myself from breaking out and singing "No sex in the conference room."
ReplyDelete@ Christian: I think I've blocked them from my memory. That's kind of my super-power. I have the uncanny ability just to delete all of the creepy things from my childhood. I was shat from my mother's womb and my next memory is 7th grade.
ReplyDelete@ Beer: I normally tend to avoid breaking out into song. I feel it conveys a general sense of happiness that I go to great lengths to avoid.