Why they call me Rube, #2
Posted by in Living at 6:53 p.m. on Nov. 15th, 20049 Comments 1 Pings
Fall, 1988
Atlanta, GA
Trolling the Fall rush parties at Georgia Tech for free beer and women of easy virtue, I find myself in a conversation with a sweet-talking little Southern Belle. The lights are low, the mood is right, and from the stereo come the melancholy strains of Johnny Horton’s “Springtime in Alaska”.
Turning to my blonde-haired, blue-eyed flower, I say, “40 below, huh? You think he means Fahrenheit or Celsius?” She rolls her eyes and, slowly but with purpose, walks to the muscular rugby player doing a headstand on the keg and strikes up a lively conversation.
Apparently she doesn’t get the joke.
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Comments
Velociman
November 16, 2004 at 1:05 a.m.:You can't find a decent slut at trade school, Rube. Should have gone to the Brandy and Coke Fest at Morris Brown.
Chap
November 16, 2004 at 7:41 a.m.:What if she told you they were the same thing?
-42 is, right?
/oh geez
larry crotser
November 16, 2004 at 6:08 p.m.:Dude, I used the same joke with a German lawyer friend of mine in Koeln a fe
larry crotser
November 16, 2004 at 11:02 p.m.:Dude, I used the same joke with a German lawyer friend of mine in Koeln a fe
Rube
November 16, 2004 at 11:37 p.m.:Hmmm...don't know what's up with your comments there, larry, but let's just say if you're saying what I think you're saying...I'm so, so sorry. For both of us.