Last night I went to my first Wit and Women class (and if anyone wants to suggest it should be Wit or Women, I will photocopy your face 66 times while I sit on the copier’s lid).
I will blog more about this adventure soon. Let’s just say it’s a great program that makes me want to take up a new sport—like braiding necklaces out of my cuticles – because there’s a possibility I could end up on stage doing five minutes of stand-up. It’s run by a dynamic and witty woman named Eva Pea. I first heard about it from Derek Wilken, who has become my humour mentor (or is that a humourous mentor?) and who is either leading me to–or pushing me off–a cliff’s edge.
So on Monday, the day prior to Wit and Women, I reminded my husband of my Tuesday night plans.
“Right,” he said. “Where is it?”
“Downtown,” I answered.
“Across from a supermarket. I have the address.”
“But where is it at?” he asked. “What kind of building?”
“Oh. I think it’s a library or a bookstore or a gallery or something. We’re supposed to meet under an awning.”
My husband looked at me.
I shrugged. “Look, it’s legit,” I said. “I know a woman who went to it. And she didn’t come back in a body bag.”
He smiled. I knew he believed me. But more importantly, I knew a reply was brewing.
He said, “If they ask you to take your clothes off–”
I rolled my eyes and sighed, my most consistent wifely communication.
I started to laugh, but a few synapses shortcut that response.
“Do you realize what you just said?” I asked.
He shook his head.
I paraphrased. “You said if people ask me to take my clothes off, I should get the money before. Which implies that people wouldn’t give me any money after.” I paused to roll my eyes and sigh again. “Oh, never mind.”
And we started to laugh.
Sometimes Whiteboard Wednesdays write themselves.
What bizarre things have you said or heard recently?
Or, what has made you want to braid necklaces out of your cuticles?