While enjoying a delicious fruit beverage at the smoothie bar section of the elaborate post wedding brunch at the fanciest reception I have ever been at, my friend Josh told me a hilarious [true] story that, especially given the clash in lifestyles this story brought to light, nearly made my raspberry/blueberry/banana puree come straight out my nose.

 

Josh’s friend, [I’m not holding back, I don’t know who, it’s some friend-of-a-friend sort of thing] let’s call him “The Po-po” [relevance will become clear momentarily], is a police officer.  He got a call about a domestic disturbance and went to investigate.*

{KNOCK, KNOCK}

 Man-with-bloody-head [MWBH]: Yeah?  {Gripping bloody head}

The Po-po: Um, I got a call about some domestic disturbance. 

MWBH: You got that right {makes gesture kind of holding up arms in a “no shit” sort of shrug, probably rolling eyes too}

The Po-po: Can you tell me what happened?

MWBH: Yeah, my woman hit me with a smoothie.

The Po-po: {Makes look liike maybe-I-misheard} I’m sorry?

MWBH: A SMOOTHIE! My woman hit me with a smoothie. {Blood gushing from gash in head, hand sort of stopping some blood}

The Po-po: I don’t follow.

MWBH: A Smoothie, Man! You, know, a SMOOTHIE. {Moves free hand back and forth over simulated flat surface} That thing to smooth out your clothes.

The Po-po: {Muffled laugh} Ah, you mean an iron.

*Story ad-libbed for dramatic effect

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2 responses »

  1. mplsheather says:

    ah yes, the slang word for iron…. everyone knows that!

  2. Kirsey says:

    That is good shit after a very busy day!

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