Last night hubby dearest joyfully offered to go and get pizza so we could have a very-lazy-friday-night-dinner.
When he arrived back home he seemed rather perplexed.
I asked him what was wrong and he replied,
“I think I got picked up. By a… fella.”
“Oh,” I say, suppressing a smirk-
“Was he good looking?” >cue Benny Hill music<
“Oh ha-deee-HA-HA.” he says.
“Go on then,” I say (trying real hard to be serious) “tell me what happened.”
“Well,” he says, “while I was waiting for the pizza I went next door-to the fruit shop… >cue more Benny Hill music< …and at the fruit shop I saw they had a big special on almonds and walnuts and peanuts. So I thought I’d get some. I was just standing there choosing which almonds and walnuts and peanuts that I wanted when this guy came up to me and started talking to me about my glasses.”
“Well I hate to disappoint you, but that’s not reeeeally a pick up.” I say.
“Oh but that’s not all,” he says indignantly “he wanted to know where I got them from.”
“Errr still not a pick up.” I say staunchly.
“Well he wanted to touch them.”
“Hmmm,” I say- with lessening conviction, “They are very nice glasses, he may have just really liked them?”
“He then asked me for my name.”
“Ahhh,” I snort “Now that does sound like a pick up. What did you do???”
“I grabbed my nuts and left.”
>cue lots and lots and lots of Benny Hill music<
I like to have a laugh.
But fear not,
I absolutely support gay rights.