I am currently working for a local CPA firm until our move to Kauai is complete. Yes, I know, I know… I’ve been writing about this for over a year. A house is in the escrow process, but until then, I wanted to stay busy and make a little money. Little did I know I’d be in the presence of an almost ALL female firm. And they love to talk and yes, gang up on me, their token male employee (that’s my nickname). I prefer certified professional man candy. They talk about men as though we were the problems for all of society and human history, and how they can’t wait for their husbands to go on business trips, or military assignments to Mars. I do my best to not listen, to ignore them, but they are awful loud.
Today one female presented me with material. The woman accidentally spilled grease on a dress that she was wearing for an after-work social gathering, most likely dominated by other alpha females, who pretend to listen to your conversation, ready to catapult themselves and their day into the conversation – which would obviously be about her dress. Personally, I think she planned this.
This lady… I mean woman…. well, a female…. wondered if she should go home to get a different dress or immediately pass go, collect $200 and then return to Park Place for shopping. To her aid came her female gang members (comrades) with solutions on how to rid the dress of the grease stain, that looked like a decorative St. Valentine’s day heart. Ahhhh…
Get ready for this men… I kid you not….
- Female # 1 – put salt on it. So she did, wait no, it was pepper. So the heart turned to a speckled blob, quite unattractive.
- Female #2 – put baking powder on it. She asked if female #2 if she had any on her. Well no, but there was some in the car. So she went to the car. Who keeps baking powder in their car? I was afraid to ask any further. This didn’t work either, the stain was now the shape and size of Texas and she was scratching her leg from the unexpected discovery she was violently allergic to the mixture of baking powder and pepper. I was laughing… very, very, silently under my breath. Even token men can be mauled. Never, ever, laugh at a women about her dress, and never, ever, answer the question of do they look fat.
- Female #3 – Battery Acid. Well yes, you will find that in a car, but really… She nixed this one, which is good, because the chemical reaction between battery acid and baking powder is an explosion. I was silently cheering this option on. What does a man do for entertainment these days?
- Female #4 – Splatter Paint Colors. Go all avant-garde with a Pablo Picantesauce impressionistic work of art.
- Female #5 – More grease. Yes, splash her with grease so that the dress just matches all around. They might all get up at once and starting lobbing their French fries all over her.
This final solution was the one she thought of choosing, but to do so she would have to strip, close the door and prepare taxes in the nude.
This is when the enterprising man in me – came into the picture and the rescue. I mentioned I would trip the fire alarm and send her rushing into the streets, where I’d have a little desk, ten-key calculator, and laptop ready to continue preparing tax returns. By the end of the day, we’d have 1,000 new clients and she would be heftily tipped.
She didn’t think I was a bit funny or clever, and suggested I run out of the building naked. And this clearly why women are from Venus – a planet uninhabitable, humorless, cloudy, gassy, overly heated, and unable to penetrate with logic or reason. I could have saved this gang of women their entire lunch hour by telling her to go home and get a different dress, but heck, then they wouldn’t have anything to do in the lunch room, except batter the token men in their lives.
Further proof that the DNA Code of women is nothing more than a mutated microbe that arrived from Venus, came out of the sludge, completely nude.. ready to file your 1040EZ.
And we men, in our infinite wisdom and simplicity, are spell bound by them, well… their nude bodies.
Silly and absurd? You betcha!