Roomie (who wasn't my Roomie back then) and I had been hanging out in the pantry getting our coffee and yogurt when the head of HR stepped in with one of her HR friends. Back then, HR was run like a sorority and it wasn't an overstatement to say that no one liked them much.
Trying to ignore them, Roomie and I had busied ourselves with our coffee and yogurt but couldn't help but overhear a conversation that went like this:
HR Director (in her deep, whiskey and cigarette-whipped voice): I am so exhausted. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.
HR Flunky: Oh, no! What happened?
HRD: It was Dan. He peed on me again.
HRF: Gasp!
(Roomie and I exchange a silent, shocked glance.)
HRD: Oh, you know. When he drinks, he doesn't remember things and last night he totally peed on me. (Sigh) I had to clean up the bed, the closet...
(I mouth to Roomie - 'The closet??')
HRF: Ohmygod. Uh, I'm so sorry?
HRD: (sigh) But what are you gonna do, you know? I just hope he doesn't drink so much at the wedding and pee on me during the honeymoon.
(They leave the room. We wait until we can't hear their footsteps anymore and then immediately burst into raucous laughter.)
When Roomie and I remembered this story the other morning, it was like being there all over again.
'Oh my god, she actually married him!' I said, tearing up and laughing my ass off.
'They had a baby! Ha ha ha!' Roomie said.
I said, 'Oh, wait. Didn't we start calling her Urinal Cake after that?'
Roomie howled. 'Urinal Cake! Ha ha ha ha!'
We laughed so loud and hard, the people standing for the bus could hear us through the car windows.
8 comments:
What are you gonna do?
"What are you gonna do," indeed!
'What are you gonna do?'
Um, maybe not marry the drunk, insensitive lout who pees on you.
But . . . . *then* what are you gonna do?
realize you're the sort of woman who tolerates men peeing on you when they're insensate.
then read some self help books, get your shit together and do some traveling.
then you have a life epiphany, get some clarity and begin to write a book about it - a memoir - then you get it published and become the darling of the publishing world.
...but die a shriveled old spinster who missed her one chance to get married when she was too picky to marry a guy just because he was an incontinent young alcoholic with no regard for her. Plus, if the wedding plans are already underway, it would be too terribly disappointing to call it off—far more disappointing, in the long run, than a lifetime with an incontinent alcoholic with no regard for his life partner. I mean, a dress may have been ordered. And a hall booked. And a photographer hired.
Can you imagine having the mindset that marched her straight into marrying that man? Sigh.
"again?"
i kept waiting for the punchline that dan was her dog.
would that he was.
no, dan was a real live boy who peed on his fiancee.
choices, you know?
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