SCENE: Saturday afternoon, Pub Chugga Chugga Choo Choo 7. A train car. Ten friends are sitting on the upper deck, laughing, drinking, discussing television commercials.
"You guys remember that Herbal Essences commercial where the woman has an orgasm in the shower--"
The conductor below us stops snapping cash from his money belt and starts darting his head around like a scared bird. "What? Who said that?"
Dainon waves slightly, stoic.
"YOU---VESTIBULE! NOW!" the humorless conductor points all haphazardly around the train car. "We don't need that kind of language on here."
"I'm sorry, sir." Dainon is visibly confused. "It won't happen again."
"I don't want to hear it. You can't say that on a train! There are children on this train!" (There is not one child in our entire train car.) "I don't appreciate that kind of language, and neither does anyone else."
"Sir, I didn't curse..."
"I'm not trying to be funny, I don't want to hear that kind of language, mister."
"I understand, sir, but I didn't curse."
"Your language is--" blah blah blah. I don't even know, this guy made no sense whatsoever.
"I will try to watch my language, sir, I apologize."
"You better." Bullshit bullshit bullshit.
Five minutes later, we arrived at our train stop, and we get the hell off that train. The conductor is helping people board and de-board.
"Fuck that guy." I'm annoyed, and full of liquid courage. "ORGASM."
"Orgasm!" an echo.
"ORGASM!" a chorus!
"We got off, are you happy?"
Slinger gets closer. "You're just pissed you've never had one." The conductor's head snaps forward, and he stretches out his arm, a two-fingered beckon to Slinger to say it within arm's reach.
We laugh, because now we're bullies. Orgasm? That's the word that makes you quake with fury? Really? Drunk Dave is on the verge of swiping your neat little hat and teabagging your head, and your temper flares when we name-drop an Herbal Essences commercial in jest?
Anyway, then we got drunker, and me and Bobbay tried to learn how to play the bagpipes from Marc, a kilt-sportin' bagpiper from Northern Ireland. He was in a parade earlier that day, where he played his pipes for the Mayor, and he realized he split his bag so he had to duct tape it together and it was really hard to blow.
(Oh, I really liked typing that last sentence.)