...and complete morons are rare

before we begin our regularly scheduled post, a quote, apropos of something-

"i don't have no problem with your fucking me, but i have a little problem with your not fucking me"

ODB, RIP. the world is now a little less dirtier. and that's a damn shame.

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by 6:30, babycakes mom was quietly drunk. she clinked two wine glasses together and said-

"certs is two, two, two, mints in one." on the third clink, the glasses broke. babycakes was always swift and no-nonsense in clean up while i majored in subject changing.

"guess what? aaron's dad, mr. west, he's my new drama professor at the "U".'

mr. west was considered a drama superstar 'round these parts. he had academic cred for starting a successful, non mormon, acting company in salt lake city. his son went to high school with us.

"guess what else? he remembers my performance in 'arsenic and old lace' and he says i'm really good and he invited me to come see him star in this play in salt lake and then we're gonna order pizza and eat it at his house and talk about foreign films and acting! isn't that cool?"

they looked at each other and then at me. so kindly. babycakes' mom started in, slowly, laying out the bread crumbs.

"a grown man, a forty-something teacher, wants to take out an eighteen year old student?"

"yeah. to a PLAY."

"and you don't think he has any designs on you?"

"on me? no way! (giggle blush, he would never) he's like gonna be my mentor."

babycakes couldn't decide whether to laugh or put his foot down.

"maybe you should tell him 'no.' or invite someone to come along."

i appreciated the intervention and all, but not mr. west.

he was pretty good in the play (i wished he were better). we ordered some shmancy pizza with artichoke hearts and went back to his cramped apartment. he popped in "belle du jour" and poured me a glass of wine. (my mind repeating, this is normal, this is grown up, we're gonna talk about acting now)

only somehow he was saying "i love your lusty italian name." and attempting to stick his tongue down my throat.

all i could fumble out was.. "i'm not really, very, lusty" as i stumbled out the door and down the dimly lit staircase.

and they say complete morons are rare.

HA! do you happen to have a bridge for sale? odds are, i'll buy it.