Listen to me, my dearies. I officially live in a disreputable apartment complex, which will work wonders for my sagging street cred. ‘Twas exactly a week ago that my sleep was disrupted at 2:30 am by the shouts and screeches of co-educational frolic at the communal pool. Quite evidently, the revellers were a tad tipsy because only inebriation would induce a desire to make a racket during the wee hours. Oh, and they decided to indulge in some skinny dipping. Mind you, although the majority of voices that penetrated my slumber were male, there was the requisite female representation as demanded by law. I will let you digest these snippets. Skinny dippers. No gender bias. Within sight. Obscene hour.
Now comes the crucial question. Did I morph from a Sleeping Sam to a Peeping Tom? I should confess that after an initial peremptory glimpse to see what the fuss was about, I went back to bed. It was then that I heard calls to the tune of, “Jackie come on!”, “Jackie, I can see your nippty-doo-dah!”, “Jackie I’ve seen you in the noodly-pum-pum before!”, and so on. It was quite clear that Jackie was holding on with every ounce of her being to her apparel despite popular demand for the opposite. She stood up for women everywhere (except for the one shameless chick who was championing loose morals) by sticking to her principles – a modern-day Draupadi. Kindly keep note of the fact that all this information bounced off my tympanum. At no moment did optics play a role.
And then the long arm of the law caught these jerks off guard. Some well-meaning resident had probably sleep-dialed 911 and mumbled something about naked animals by the watering hole – clearly the result of a somnolent Serengeti safari. So, with radios bleeping, the cops busted some chops and sent the swimmers upstream. And I survived the ruckus with my morals intact, just like before. This bodes well for the sexual harrassment training that I’m supposed to undergo tomorrow on account of being a new employee. I kid you not, the programme is called “Discrimination and Harrassment Training”. I thought such sentiments came naturally. This will certainly jazz up my resume and social standing.
Hilarious!
Sometimes I wonder whether I should have been so decent.
The cops should have taken the well-meaning resident along.
For decent exposure of indecent activities?
I re-iterate. The cops should have taken the well-meaning resident and the guys in the pool. The girls with or without morals should be allowed to stay back in the pool. How do you like that law? It should be called “Indiscriminate Discrimination”
I like it like it. They will definitely need to be consoled after such a harrowing experience. Lucky for them, I possess the 3 qualities of TV/movie nice guys: smart, funny and sensitive. Cha-ching!
I am sure they like bad-boys more than good-guys though… even for consolation.
No problem. All I need to do is turn a switch.
In fact, we can play the ‘good cop/bad cop’ routine with the girls. I’m so sure they’ll love us.
Totally. What’s not to love? We also have TWO ballads at our disposal. Good timing, I say.
Yes, and we can also have TGFI introduce us to the girls. From her comment on your previous post, I can see she’s willing to help out by recommending the use of a room.
It’s all coming together. The universe is no longer conspiring against us. Who knew Tigfee was so considerate…and prescient?
Yes, I like the new and improved TigFee. I owed her flowers and now I owe her a beer too.
Yes, yes. Give her our newly produced album too. Nothing says “Thank you!” like a Lamb of God growl.
Yes, brilliant idea!
TigFee, if you are reading this, when do you wish to get started on our introductions? I’m sure the girls in the pool can’t wait. And we’re keeping you happy with gifts too.
let me see the gifts, first.
You are supposed to inform us what happens in the training
State secrets, Banjo!