Sunday, May 22, 2016

I just got a funny email from a friend.



"Hey, when can the wife come over your place to get some peace and quiet and figure out the family bills?" he asked. "She'll put on her hooker outfit."

I laughed and now that I think of it it's likely that his wife told him to ask me that. She's s character.

I really like that woman. She's got a pretty damned good sense of humor. There is quite a difference between tawdry and earthy and this woman is totally classy yet down to earth. It's rare and a joy to run into.

They were over the house a while ago and we were doing a ham radio thing. Dinner was here but served as a catch as catch can deal. It was a working dinner. She grabbed a plate and loaded up. I grabbed a stainless steel GI mess hall tray as it is easier to move around. She didn't bat an eyelash at that. She knew why I did that without asking.

I was on the laptop, he was on the rig and she was generally taking care of odds and ends. The phone rang.

"Hey, someone get that. If they want me tell them I'm in the driveway with some babe that just got out of a Ferrari sportin' a $40,000 boob job!" I said. I'm an automatic smart-ass, especially when something annoying like a poorly timed phone call comes up.

She laughed and simply answered the phone and told the telemarketer that had called just that. She reported that the telemarketer seemed sort of shocked and had cut the call short.

She's rather busty and after she got off of the phone she came over to me and stuck out her chest and asked me to appraise them. "What are these worth?" she asked, impishly, but in kind of a Mae West tone.

I didn't expect that and was glad I didn't have a mouthful of anything. I would have snarfed so hard that barbecued ribs would have shot out of my nose. It was her humorous way of coming back at me for the $40,000 boob job line I had told her to give to the telemarketer.

I grinned and replied, "Those are priceless!" and we all laughed and went back to the project. She pitched in where she could and things went smoothly. 

Later after things settled down the subject of neighbors in general came up and I laughed and looked at him. "You do business around here ever?" I asked.

"Occasionally," he replied.

"Bring her with you," I said. "Stop at the bank first and break a $100 bill into one fifty and fifty ones."

I looked at her and asked her, "Could you conjure up a really trashy outfit somewhere? You could come over read, watch TV and do bills for a couple hours when he's doing business and I'm working in the basement. Then when he's ready he calls you on the cell. That's when you muss yourself up. Slide your skirt off center, muss your hair and maybe pull off one false eyelash just before you leave. Then dig the wad of cash out of your bag and walk out with it in your fist."

She blushed and laughed. "Maybe leave one stocking ungartered so it slips down and I have to lift my skirt and fix it in the driveway?"

" You know the drill. Perfect. Look like you have earned every dime of that money." I said and we all laughed. "Hell, I don't even have to be home. I'll take the Miata out of the garage, leave the truck in the driveway so it looks like I'm home and leave the key someplace."

"What would the neighbors do?" he laughed. 

"Truthfully most of them wouldn't bat an eyelash. They know me too well but the one over there would go completely nuts," I said, pointing to a house nearby. "She'd be on the phone before you even drove off!" We had a chuckle and finished the evening project up and they left.

It was a memorable evening partly because of the project but mainly because of the great company. He was great and so was she. 

It's rare running into a woman like that that is comfortable around men and can share humor and still stay truly classy.

The email he just sent me caused me to chuckle and remember a fun night with good company.




To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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