Two feet, one mouth
Upon learning that I had spent the day demolishing an 8 foot high, 15 foot long wall in my apartment, my neighbor kindly said, "You know, we have tools if you need them."
Aside from the fact that this would have been a nearly impossible task had I not been in possession of tools of my own, it was a nice gesture. And yet, per usual, the urge to respond with some degree of snark was too powerful for me to overcome.
"Nah, I'm all set, thanks. Got my own. And I'm not even a lesbian! Crazy, huh?"
I was hoping for...even expecting, a laugh. A smile at least. I mean, come on.
No dice. I was met with a slightly raised eyebrow and a hasty retreat.
I had no idea he was a lesbian. Whoops.
Aside from the fact that this would have been a nearly impossible task had I not been in possession of tools of my own, it was a nice gesture. And yet, per usual, the urge to respond with some degree of snark was too powerful for me to overcome.
"Nah, I'm all set, thanks. Got my own. And I'm not even a lesbian! Crazy, huh?"
I was hoping for...even expecting, a laugh. A smile at least. I mean, come on.
No dice. I was met with a slightly raised eyebrow and a hasty retreat.
I had no idea he was a lesbian. Whoops.
posted by Helen the Felon at 12:46 PM
10 Comments:
Send him my way - I am a lesbian, and I have no wall demolishing tools of my own. In fact, since word got out that I don't even know how to use a soldering iron, I can only sneak into local lesbian events.
Brilliant. I shall have to remember that...
Silly man-lesbian. Wall-demolishing-tools are for Helen.
Now, why are you tearing down a wall? Is this the divide that kept the socialist and democratic sides of your apartment separated?
Right, because if you were a lesbian you would just have broken through the wall with your head...
Elizabeth, he's all yours. Hopefully you're under 5 foot 6, coz he's on the short side. And if you think other lesbians are pissed at you, well, try being bisexual. Oy.
BD...why, are you coming to visit?
GayProf, I was just cranky and needed something to smash. That's one wall that won't be getting in my way when I'm drunk again, you can count on that.
Da Nator, of course you're right. Although the head-smashing could potentially mess up my mullet...and I hate when I get blood on my flannel shirt...
Moving Helen has been one of the high points in my life. Sorry I am too far away to help. I would recommend it for any of you living in the NY area, unless of course you have had six hernias repaired in the past year.
Ooo. Helen, how butch of you. Perhaps your neighbor was hoping you were a lesbian!
You know those straight guys and their wacky fantasies. Personally, I just don't get it.
Is that an offer? Looking for someone to retort as quick? :P
Maybe, I should really play the game with 'better' people; it's getting to easy to nip buds...
Hey! I'll have you know I haven't worn flannel since... 199-something? It was after the harmonic convergence of "the Year of The Lesbian" and "grunge," I'll tell you that.
You damn bisexual.
Now I'm off to feed my cats and listen to some Indigo Girls, or something...
Hmmm, what tools was he offering? He might have been making a play for you... :-)
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