Tonight a salesman (Jeremy) from the local phone book company came over to our house to discuss our yellow page ad. We discussed how big the ad would be and it’s design. We talked about the price and exactly what was included for such a sum. We discovered that we would be able to have our ad run in two sections and that we’d most likely be first in each section. We learned that Jeremy – while drunk in Mexico during Spring Break – almost got a tattoo, but since he was afraid of making such a big decision while intoxicated, he decided to get his nipple pierced instead. What he didn’t count on was that after the piercing was removed, that he’d have one nipple that was always erect – as big as a pencil eraser – and one that was normal. The only way to fix it was to get the other nipple pierced, then remove it and then at least they’d match.
Now, I’m no fancypants businesswoman, but I can say with reasonable certainty that the words, “nipple” and “erect” don’t often come up in business meetings. Unless you’re a doctor. Or Lactation Specialist. Or a builder.
I was ready to mark this as one of the most awkward stories I’ve ever had to sit silently through, when he said,
“I don’t know why I said all that. I don’t usually talk about my nipples. I’ve never actually told anyone that. I can’t believe I said it was like an eraser”.
Then? Then I started laughing until I was laying on my sofa, tears ruining my perfectly applied – even if a little too dark – eye makeup. He commented about how red he was and that just made me laugh more. The inappropriateness of his revelation was matched by my inappropriately long and involved hysterics.
I wanted to stop laughing, but the fact they’d both resumed the conversation normally as if I wasn’t even in the room – and clearly, I was in the room -just kept fueling the scene.
He really was red. Poor red-faced, pointy-nippled Jeremy.