Smoke break conversation with a colleague after I'd recently purchased a new car.
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"My dad can fit in the driver's seat, has head room and everything," I say.
"That's nice," he replies.
"Yeah," I continue, "though the back seat is a little tight."
Just then, a female student exits the behind, as my colleague says,
"You're not going to have people in the back seat all that often."
Intrinsically, we both think the same thing, and sense that we're thinking the same thing: how that little phrase, being the only part of the conversation the student heard, may have sounded awkward.
We look at each other.
"I do have my own place."
Showing posts with label Conversation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conversation. Show all posts
International Application
Me: Do you remember that student whose mother you were emailing back and forth with?
Her: Yes.
Me: Do you remember his mother's name? He filled out an international application so I don't have any of that information.
Her: He's an international student?
Me: No, he's stupid.
Her: Yes.
Me: Do you remember his mother's name? He filled out an international application so I don't have any of that information.
Her: He's an international student?
Me: No, he's stupid.
Bad Practice
{continuing a conversation that revolved around one of our distant colleagues and his "cast a wide net" approach to getting a date with a woman}
"That's totally not my style," my colleague says. "I'm laid back, I prefer being the mysterious type."
"I don't talk to women there either," I say, "unless they're right next to me."
"I'm not talking just there," my colleague says, "but overall."
"Ah, you mean women in general."
"Yeah, instead of casting a wide net-"
"Fishing with a worm," I say.
"Not even," my colleague says. "Fishing like the Indians, with your bare hands....although they used spears."
"That's totally not my style," my colleague says. "I'm laid back, I prefer being the mysterious type."
"I don't talk to women there either," I say, "unless they're right next to me."
"I'm not talking just there," my colleague says, "but overall."
"Ah, you mean women in general."
"Yeah, instead of casting a wide net-"
"Fishing with a worm," I say.
"Not even," my colleague says. "Fishing like the Indians, with your bare hands....although they used spears."
Coffee is a Natural, a Natural, Uh...
I dial my smoking buddy/colleague.
"(Jumbled language) outside to have a fag?" I try to say.
"Are you drunk over there?" he asks.
"No, no, just talking quietly," I say, but the language exits my mouth tangled yet again.
"Sounds like you had some problems with that one too."
"You want to go outside soon?" I ask, more clearly this time.
"Yeah, I'll go out there in about five minutes."
"All right. I'll wait for your cue."
Five minutes pass, I see my colleague heading for the door. With haste I rise from my desk chair and in seeing this he veers towards my office.
"Whoa. Just hold on a minute," he says. Then he leans in close. "I've gotta drop a deuce."
I laugh. "Jesus Christ. So I'll be down in five to seven minutes?"
"It's the coffee man," he says. "You know, it a natural, a natural, uh..." and he trails off, waving his hands around in front of him in search for the elusive descriptor.
"Diuretic?" I say.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Whatever."
"(Jumbled language) outside to have a fag?" I try to say.
"Are you drunk over there?" he asks.
"No, no, just talking quietly," I say, but the language exits my mouth tangled yet again.
"Sounds like you had some problems with that one too."
"You want to go outside soon?" I ask, more clearly this time.
"Yeah, I'll go out there in about five minutes."
"All right. I'll wait for your cue."
Five minutes pass, I see my colleague heading for the door. With haste I rise from my desk chair and in seeing this he veers towards my office.
"Whoa. Just hold on a minute," he says. Then he leans in close. "I've gotta drop a deuce."
I laugh. "Jesus Christ. So I'll be down in five to seven minutes?"
"It's the coffee man," he says. "You know, it a natural, a natural, uh..." and he trails off, waving his hands around in front of him in search for the elusive descriptor.
"Diuretic?" I say.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Whatever."
Manual Transmission
"I Think I found a car for you," my colleague says to a student while we stand outside, smoking. "A nineteen eighty nine Jeep Wagoneer."
"Yeah well, cars cost money, man," the student replies. "How much was it?"
"Three-thousand."
"Well I only have a hundred bucks, and that's gotta last," the student retorts. "Manual or automatic?"
"Manual," my colleague says. "It's a truck."
"Fuck that, I can't do that," the student says. "Gotta have the shift."
"If you want to put your hand on something," my colleague shoots back, "grab your dick."
"Yeah well, cars cost money, man," the student replies. "How much was it?"
"Three-thousand."
"Well I only have a hundred bucks, and that's gotta last," the student retorts. "Manual or automatic?"
"Manual," my colleague says. "It's a truck."
"Fuck that, I can't do that," the student says. "Gotta have the shift."
"If you want to put your hand on something," my colleague shoots back, "grab your dick."
Arithmetic
I'm smoking out back and the director pulls into the lot, exits his car, and heads toward my direction, shaking his head.
"I tell you," he says, "trying to teach [the softball coach] how to do a mail merge over the phone is like trying to teach an algebra equation to a baby."
"I tell you," he says, "trying to teach [the softball coach] how to do a mail merge over the phone is like trying to teach an algebra equation to a baby."
Burning One for One in Hell
"They're changing the Christmas program this year. It's going to be more like a play," she says.
My colleague and I take this in.
She continues, "They're even going to have a real, live baby Jesus."
My colleague thinks it over.
"You'd make a good wise man," I said to him.
"I'd bring the myrrh," he says.
"I'd want the gold," I state, "but I'd keep it!"
He laughs as we slip further down the slope of sacrilege.
"He and I wouldn't make good wise men," my colleague says to anyone listening. "We'd end up stopping at Sodom and Gomorrah and blowing all our cash."
"Sorry, Jesus," I say, "but I did get you this great t-shirt!"
My colleague and I take this in.
She continues, "They're even going to have a real, live baby Jesus."
My colleague thinks it over.
"You'd make a good wise man," I said to him.
"I'd bring the myrrh," he says.
"I'd want the gold," I state, "but I'd keep it!"
He laughs as we slip further down the slope of sacrilege.
"He and I wouldn't make good wise men," my colleague says to anyone listening. "We'd end up stopping at Sodom and Gomorrah and blowing all our cash."
"Sorry, Jesus," I say, "but I did get you this great t-shirt!"
Smoke Break Thursday Afternoon
"What's that guy doing?" a colleague asks.
I look around, up into the heavens where his gaze is angled, but see nothing.
"This guy, right here," and he points to a tiny spider hanging by a thread of silk from the overhang above the rear entrance to the building.
"He's waiting around for the opportune moment to lay eggs in some chick's hair."
He laughs.
"Aren't we all waiting for that. Except those aren't really eggs."
I look around, up into the heavens where his gaze is angled, but see nothing.
"This guy, right here," and he points to a tiny spider hanging by a thread of silk from the overhang above the rear entrance to the building.
"He's waiting around for the opportune moment to lay eggs in some chick's hair."
He laughs.
"Aren't we all waiting for that. Except those aren't really eggs."
Upon Seeing a Watercolor Portrait of a Large, Naked Man Seated in an Armchair
"Remind me never to go over to that guy's house for a football game."
Turning up the Heat
A colleague and I are behind our office building having a cigarette when one of his students approaches us. Clear skies, a sunny day, she says to my colleague:
"Isn't he hot?"
She's talking about me, I realize; this is a bit awkward. I look down at myself and then to my colleague, and notice that he is wearing a short-sleeve grey polo while I wear a blue, thin, long-sleeve shirt.
"No," I say, "This is light material. Lighter material than the shirt he's wearing," and I point to my colleague.
She laughs, and walks away towards her car.
Once she had walked out of earshot, my colleague says:
"Yeah, he's kind of hot."
"Fuck off," I say.
"Not really into dudes though."
"Isn't he hot?"
She's talking about me, I realize; this is a bit awkward. I look down at myself and then to my colleague, and notice that he is wearing a short-sleeve grey polo while I wear a blue, thin, long-sleeve shirt.
"No," I say, "This is light material. Lighter material than the shirt he's wearing," and I point to my colleague.
She laughs, and walks away towards her car.
Once she had walked out of earshot, my colleague says:
"Yeah, he's kind of hot."
"Fuck off," I say.
"Not really into dudes though."
At the Tail End
"...and Mandy has graduated with her degree in nursing, and is moving today-"
"That's good."
"-to Rochester, Minnesota to work at Mayo-"
"How neat!"
"-as a colonoscopy nurse."
"Ooooh, that's kind of crappy."
"That's what her mother said."
"That's good."
"-to Rochester, Minnesota to work at Mayo-"
"How neat!"
"-as a colonoscopy nurse."
"Ooooh, that's kind of crappy."
"That's what her mother said."
Art in Higher Education
A colleague of mine and I stood in the gallery where the campus-wide art exibition was being held. Works of every sort: three-dimenisonal design, sketches, stencils, wire sculptures, water color, digital editing. The place cleared out and we both focused on this four feet by two feet watercolor that depicted a girl from the knees up. In the painting, she is facing away from the frame and she is looking back over her shoulder, completely nude, and from the looks of her arms she is cradling her breasts.
"I wanted to get over here and check this one out," I say, "but I didn't want people thinking I was a perv."
"Yeah, me neither," he says.
"It's beautiful," I say. It's really the girl's face that strikes me. It's the most detailed of the entire piece. Dark eyes, flowing brown hair, and a look of pure innocence. Behold, this is the daughter of God. This is Eve, just before the fall.
"Yeah but there's something wrong with it," he says.
I scan over the painting once more. "Her ass is too low," I say. "She's got this huge lumbar region thing going on." Admittedly, parlance not often heard with the walls of an art gallery, but a hell of a lot more sophisticated than sipping wine and talking about how much you can afford to pay for the piece.
"Or," he says, tracing the line with his finger, "the crack needs to go higher."
I concur. We head for the door. Have to get back into the office and appear useful before the day's end.
"Who do you think that is?" he asks.
I turn around and bend at the waist and squint so I can see the artist's name in the lower right corner of the painting.
"No," he says. "The model."
I pause and look up and think.
"Wouldn't I like to know?"
"It's probably a student," he says.
"Well, in that case, nevermind."
"I wanted to get over here and check this one out," I say, "but I didn't want people thinking I was a perv."
"Yeah, me neither," he says.
"It's beautiful," I say. It's really the girl's face that strikes me. It's the most detailed of the entire piece. Dark eyes, flowing brown hair, and a look of pure innocence. Behold, this is the daughter of God. This is Eve, just before the fall.
"Yeah but there's something wrong with it," he says.
I scan over the painting once more. "Her ass is too low," I say. "She's got this huge lumbar region thing going on." Admittedly, parlance not often heard with the walls of an art gallery, but a hell of a lot more sophisticated than sipping wine and talking about how much you can afford to pay for the piece.
"Or," he says, tracing the line with his finger, "the crack needs to go higher."
I concur. We head for the door. Have to get back into the office and appear useful before the day's end.
"Who do you think that is?" he asks.
I turn around and bend at the waist and squint so I can see the artist's name in the lower right corner of the painting.
"No," he says. "The model."
I pause and look up and think.
"Wouldn't I like to know?"
"It's probably a student," he says.
"Well, in that case, nevermind."
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