Mark, The Other White Meat

The female has a strange way of communicating. She speaks in code and uses unintelligible phrases. This posting hopes to serve as a small piece to a greater cipher.

It was my last week at ###, and it was my last Friday lunch. On occasion, a few people from the department would catch a bite together out in Arlington. But since it was my last Friday lunch, I wanted to gather everyone I could; all the department guys and girls and their significant others who worked close by. So I also invited my little betty, who by the way is wonderful and has caring and attractive friends that watch out for her.

She replied with an email saying that she wouldn’t be able to make, it, and that I should spend this last lunch with my friends anyway. I asked why she couldn’t join, and she offered a befuddling response.

“Because I have an appointment with Brazil.”

As lunch approached, a few friends in the department asked what time we would be leaving, while also inquiring if the wonderful girl in the office I was dating would be joining us. I told them that she wouldn’t be, and they asked why not.

In all sincerity, my response was that I supposed she was busy with work or on a conference call or something. I shrugged, “She told me she had an appointment with Brazil.”

The girl seated across the hallway gave me a wry look. It was a look that I had grown accustomed to, since I may have been guilty for delivering a tactless joke or two in my dark past. As one female co-worker will tell you, I actually injured myself once while humping the frame of her office door.

So the expression of my co-worker warned me of something. And I also found it odd that the publicly-funded ########### for ###### ############ would allocate any resources to the ###### ############ ####### for dealings in South America.

Fueled by my suspicion, I called my significant other and asked her what was going on. And that’s when she clarified the situation to me.

Not to be a philosophical stickler or anything, but can the absence of something really be something?




Brazil


Not Brazil


Metaphysical pleonasms aside, this is how members of my department came to learn the style, or non-style, of a certain colleague’s pubic region.

And so, too, can you consider yourself among the edified.



Permission to publish this posting was granted under the sole stipulation that I would point out something nice about the girl in mention.

She, like each of her friends, is caring and attractive and not averse to censoring my blog in passive-agressive ways.