Our Father's Mustache

(Scene: The office, learning so huge lessons about linguistics and American slang; some phrases cannot be used interchangeably. An example of that would be “jacking off” in the place of “slacking off.” While you might think they mean the same thing, they don’t and you’re about to be really embarrassed)

AM: I had to retake some classes…

K: Yeah, me too. I basically just jacked off my entire freshman year.

PAUSE……………………………………

AM: Uhm.

MR: Katie?

(From over the cubical wall; a voice)

R: Uhhh, did I just hear what I think I heard?

K: (Whispers) Um. What did I just say?

AM and MR: Laughing silently…

K: Jacking off….?

AM: KATIE! Don’t say that!

MR: We’ve replaced the Subaru comment.

K: Isn’t it the same as slacking off? Jerking around?

AM: Um, no, not really.

K: You guys know what I meant! I’m a girl, it’s not like I have the parts to do that anyway!

MR: Oh, and it’s only getting better….

K: So….it’s not the same as slacking off?

AM: Nope. No it is not. That was funny though.

K: Welp. Awesome.

MR: Don’t worry, there’s not really anyone around anyway.

K: That’s one for the record book.

(End Scene)

(Scene: Tuesday, K and her friend A are discussing the mystery of all mysteries; men and how they think. Let’s listen in on their conversation…)

K: He’s being SUCH a woman about this whole thing! It’s ridiculous.

A: I agree. He is not reacting in a mature manner.

K: If he’s going to act like a girl, he needs to eat a pan of brownies, watch a chick flick, and then flipping get over it!

A: Did you say that to him…?

K: No…because it would make him cry and eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and then complain about how fat he is.

A: I think you’re right. Hmm…I kind of want a brownie.

K: Where have all the real men gone, A? WHERE?

A: They’re hiding from us. They know we’re hormonally unstable and want brownies.

K: Survival of the fittest. They’re the smart ones.

(The only thing established from this conversation is that women who are PMS-ing really, REALLY do not like men; generally for no apparent reason. They prefer brownies instead; generally for no apparent reason)

(Scene: a regular Thursday afternoon. K has gone to a meeting in Dallas and has had a rough time of it so far today. Tip: check in for your flight 24 hours before it departs…)

L: How is it only 2:00???? Oh, forgot you’re in Dallas. Doh!

 K: OMG. NO KIDDING. Would you like to hear what I freaking did this morning?!?!?

 L: Um, yes, yes I would. I’m intrigued/terrified/excited. Missed your flight?

 K: Well, this morning when I got up, I got really sick, so I was running late. I butt dialed Mackey on my way to the airport and somehow made it a 3 way call (I THREE-WAY BUTT CALLED HIM. AWESOME.). He called me back wondering why the hell I had called him that early in the morning (actually he was very nice about it) and I decided to end the call by saying, “so…was it good for you?” (It was a three-way butt dial, after all…needed to bring attention to that…couldn’t just leave it alone). Yeah. Anyway, I got to the airport to check in and the meanest woman on the planet was at the ticket counter. She told me if I wanted to get to my meeting in Dallas, I should have been on time to the airport. Really? REALLY?! Don’t you think I know that?!

 So I get a ticket for the next flight and run to security. I called Greg and told him what happened (because I was the one who had THE PRESENTATION. Brilliant, Schaffer, quite brilliant) and he told me to get to the gate asap, because they’d probably still let me on. So I go through security and don’t bother putting my shoes back on AND RUN (I mean RUN) in a full out sprint to the gate. And I’m wearing tights and a dress, so just picture that plus me “sprinting.” I SLIDE around the corner and look up and ALL my coworkers are watching me. But I made the flight because Greg is amazing and worked his charms on the gate agent.

 The funny thing is….I’m having a great day. I don’t know if running gave me enough endorphins or what, but my attitude is strangely positive. I looked like an idiot, but I kind of don’t care.

 (Pause)

 L: You’re going to wake up extra-early for your flight next week, aren’t you?

 K: Oh yeah, this day has been hellish.

(For the record: K made it home exhausted, but no worse for wear. She was early for her flight to Dallas the next week. It’s the little victories that matter most.)

(Scene: Another boring Monday at work…let the emails begin)

K: Hey, thanks for coming to the bout on Saturday!

M: I had a good time.  I still can’t believe how much some people paid for those plaster casts.

(Note: The casts being referenced are plaster breast casts that some of the derby girls made and auctioned off to raise money for cancer charities)

K: Seriously! And I’m just not sure how you’d decorate with that…If it was a vase, I’d get it…

M: That would be one of the most awkward vases of all time.

K: A conversational piece, nonetheless.

M: I wonder how that conversation would go.

• Person 1: “That’s an interesting vase.”
• Person 2: “Thanks. It’s a plaster cast of a stranger’s breasts.”
• Person 1: “I have to go.”

K: Alternate ending to that story:

• Person 1: “That’s an interesting vase.”
• Person 2: “Thanks.  It’s a plaster cast of a stranger’s breasts.”
• Person 1: “Can I touch it?”
• Person 2: “You have to go.”

M: Hahahahaha.

(End Scene)

(Scene: In a minivan on the way back from the Explosions in the Sky concert, our girl K hears some interesting news about Zac Hanson. She immediately text messages our girl L to find out if said news is true or not. Their friendship does not operate by any kind of “chick code” besides the law of whoever hears news of a Hanson divorce must immediately inform the other. Mostly to double check the rumor.)

K: LO! I JUST HEARD THAT ZAC HANSON IS GETTING A DIVORCE! CONFIRM OR DENY?

L: Checking. Where did you hear this rumor?!

K: Well, Dalton is friends with a guy who was a videographer on the last tour, and he said that his friend said that Zac Hanson’s marriage is on the rocks.

L: I can neither confirm or deny. Although if it’s true, this could be your shot.

K: Do you think that’s why he was growing that AWFUL fumanchu?? The fumanchu of mourning?

L: That has to be it! Why else would anyone choose to grow such nasty facial hair?

K: So, do you think we could adopt each other?

L: What?

K: That way if I marry Zac Hanson, you can be related to the Hansons in a legitimate way.

L: OMG. Think of the holiday parties!

K: Nevermind, you and I cannot legally adopt each other.

L: My kids can just marry your step kids.

K: We need to buy our VIP fan passes so we actually have a shot at getting this worked out.

Pause……….

K: You know…I don’t really want Zac Hanson to get a divorce…that would be sad.

L: I know, I don’t either.

K: But if it did…..

L: It doesn’t hurt to prepare.