Food for the Brain
October 20, 2005
Intelligent conversation is one of life's pleasures. I love nothing better than to engage in conversation with someone who has ideas to share, different perspectives, and is interesting. An intelligent conversation is food for the brain. All too sadly, not everyone can carry on an intelligent conversation. This has less to do with their intelligence quotient (IQ) than with their emotional quotient (EQ). Only a self-aware, self-confident person with excellent social skills has the ability to engage in intelligent conversation. – "You Can't Have An Intelligent Conversation With Everyone" by Rachelle Disbennett-Lee
Wednesday, Oct. 12, 3 p.m. Somewhere in Lahaina...
Two guys and a girl—all platonic friends—are sitting together at a table in a bar. Over the course of an hour, they consume three rounds of beer and Patron shots with Tabasco. This is what it sounds like.
"Dude, what are you looking at?"
"The bartender—I think I know her. But she looks different somehow."
"Did you hook up with her?"
"We were good friends."
"Oh please, you totally hooked up! Just admit it."
"Whatever. What lipstick color is that?"
"C'mon, are you serious?"
"What is it? Berry Blitz?"
"No dude, that's a wine cooler."
"Actually, it's a Jamba juice."
"I can name that color in three notes."
"Is it… 7-11 Red?"
"Whatever it is, it's gotta be good."
"It's called Cocoa."
"Cocoa?! It's really more like Burnt Sienna."
"Burnt Sienna? Isn't that a crayon color?"
"That's why they call it Cocoa—shut up!"
"That was the only color I couldn't pronounce."
"Didn't Crayola have colors like Kangaroo Yellow?"
"I had a bottle of water stolen from me by a monkey in Thailand. They were cappuccino monkeys. Seriously, they had a little white hair froth on their heads."
"What, were they frozen, too?"
"Did I order a water? I meant to order vodka."
"Do you like Rush or do you like Clint?"
"Uh, you mean non-denominational? Wait, even that wouldn't make any sense."
"When did you get your nose pierced?"
"Um, I got it pierced when I was about… 21, I think."
"That was around the same time I got my balls pierced."
"You want to ask me something?"
"Hey, where'd the cute bartender chick go? I don't want that guy serving me."
"Give him a break—he just needs a boob job and some ass."
"Yeah… But this isn't Burning Man."
"I figured out a better name for your lipstick—how about Mexican Pussy?"
A slap. And the sound of a limp body hits the floor.
Samantha Campos's favorite Crayola crayon color is Bittersweet. MTW
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