Saturday, December 14, 2013

That Text (a.k.a., "Dildos Happen")

At age 9 I was labeled “gifted and talented”.  I am not exactly sure how I qualified for this designation; regardless though, the classification was evidence in and of itself of my capacity for being “gifted and talented” at something.  

So, in a recent bout of self-analysis, something I do generally once a month and often coinciding when feminine products make it on the shopping list, I decided to try and itemize my various gifts and talents…being excessively wordy when writing (I know you are thinking that at this very moment); pissing off my mother (not something unique to just me, but something I am quite good at nonetheless); walking “up” the “down” escalator (all too often)…

And then suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, I received that text…you know, the text…the blow off text…the I know we had plans to go for dinner tonight at 9, but there’s been an emergency…my grandmother stuck a giant dildo up her ass at the senior center’s Friday night “truth or dare” event and now needs to have emergency surgery or die, and I have to be there to perform the surgery because the doctor that typically performs dildo surgeries is at the “Dildos Happen” medical conference in Abu Dhabi and won’t be back until Wednesday and the surgery is scheduled to be 13 hours because the dildo pierced her intestine so I definitely won’t be able to meet up after or tomorrow and…(okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly what the text was, but the excuse was just as fucking preposterous as that so just indulge me here)…still though,  at that very moment it dawned on me…the gift and talent that really stood out amongst the rest and was not grounded on a set of standards determined by a suspect third party with questionable qualifications or my own narcissism for that matter… the one ability that truly warranted the “gifted and talented” designation and the one for which, I believe, I do actually reign supreme…there it was, looking at me right in the face (along with dildo fairies dancing in my head)…my unrivaled aptitude for attracting and being attracted to…douche bags.

No comments:

Post a Comment