"I don't bat that way, but...."

Last night I called Velinda, hoping to see her. She, however, was trapped in a speech and debate tournament which wouldn't be ending until 9 pm, so dinner was out.

(One day I'll have to recount the horror of my being a speech and debate coach, and the 13 hour marathons that ate into my weekends (without pay).
But anyway, let's not get the bile back up in my throat just yet...)

She suggested we have coffee.
I hadn't seen her in a month or so (despite the fact that she lives across the street). She got home a bit around 10 or so, still frazzled from the horror that is speech and debate.

By the time we got into the car it was nearly 11 pm. We drove down Magazine, only to be refused entry at the coffeehouse. The only 24 hour coffee house I could think of offhand was Z'otz, so we drove back across town.

If you've never been to Z'otz (on Oak St.) it's really cool. It's a bit like a big Dada-ist art installation.
Or "Pan's Labyrinth"
At least that's what it seemed like at midnight. The barrista was 6'2" and looked like a cross between Marilyn Manson and one of the creatures from the aforementioned movie.

We got our coffee and settled down in one of the back rooms, listening to what sounded like demonic circus music.... alternating with the occasional smattering of what seemed like gay rap....and Peaches.

Much of the conversation was about her church, friends of ours and her niece's problems, but towards 1 am or so we drifted off into silliness.

She'd mentioned that she was going to a "Ladies Tea" the next morning at her church, and I joked that I'd like to go.
With that, she was off and running, making jokes about how she'd put me with the other "burly women" at the church, and we began a long discussion about how she'd dress me.
"We'd have to go shopping at Lane Bryant."
"I'd put you in cotton panties....gotta have some breathing room down there, you know," she said. She suggested pants.
"A skirt" I insisted.

(There's no way I'd be in pants at a tea. I mean really.)

There was a lot of talk about panties, let's just put it that way....

Anyway, we stretched the joke to its breaking point, as we generally do...when all of a sudden, a guy comes up to us.

He's about 25, in a long coat. His eyes were a bit wild.

"I couldn't help but overhear," he tells us sheepishly.
We look at each other and at him and back at each other.
"Uhhh I don't bat that way," he goes on smiling strangely....."but that's what I notice first, the ass. I don't look at the front, just the back. That's what gets me going."

We looked at him in silence. I attempted a laugh. It didn't quite work. We looked at each other.
"Oh, really?" I said, to break the dead silence.
We couldn't quite figure if he was hitting on me or her or us both.

"Yeah" he smiled at me and went out the back door (ummm...pun intended)
Velinda and I started at each other in dull surprise.
Just as we began to breathe again....suddenly, he reopened to door and and said something else (which I can't remember now for the life of me)
I attempted another laugh, and then he left nervously.

It was 2 am by now, and the hellish circus music had resumed, so I suggested we leave.