Conversation with My Wife (122)
Bump stock bear markets and glitter boots kicking ass
My wife and I commute to and from work most days. We get caught up on each other, and listen to NPR news.
Sometimes we listen more carefully than others. Like when there is mention of the Trump White House proposing to ban bump stocks.
DEB: Really? He wants to ban bump stocks? Can he do that?
ME: That’s a good question. Most people seem to think it should be up to Congress, but it’s possible he might be able to do something by executive order.
DEB: It’s all about him, isn’t it? He probably lost money when he invested, or something.
ME: I think he was always more into real estate. I’m not sure he even knew about bump stocks until Las Vegas.
DEB: When he invested in real estate in Las Vegas?
ME: (real estate?) What? No, the shooting.
DEB: (quiet momentarily) Ah! Never mind. Got it. The things that go on rifles.
ME: As opposed to…
DEB: Financial derivatives. You know, bump stocks.
ME: Not so much.
Somehow, another time we got to talking about strong women.
DEB: See, honey, strong women don’t scare you. You grew up with a strong woman as a mother. Even your sister holds her own.
ME: Also in the Navy. I went to the Academy with the first class of women, and Navy women had to be tough back then. I thought the “poor little ol’ me” women in movies and TV were bogus stereotypes, because I’d never worked with anyone like that. Then I got to my first civilian job and one of the secretaries asked me to get down a box from a shelf. It wasn’t even that big or over her head! Even civilian women in the Navy would never have pulled a “big strong you” routine to get help for that.
DEB: She was flirting with you.
ME: What?
DEB: Jackster, when a woman asks for help on something she doesn’t need help on, she’s trying to get your attention. She was flirting.
ME: Oh. (thinks) Well, it didn’t work, because I thought she was a moron.
DEB: You are more into women who help themselves.
ME: Precisely. So like, if you and I were in a fight with bad guys —
DEB: What am I wearing? Am I wearing thigh-high glitter boots?
ME: (what???) Um, sure. Anyway, say you’re having trouble with the guy you’re fighting, and I go help and take him out, and you look behind me and see someone coming—
DEB: And I go (makes wide-eyed face) so now you know he’s coming—
ME: Okay, sure, the thing is you just tell me to duck and use your weapon—
DEB: What color is it?
ME: The weapon? What color is it?
DEB: To go with my glitter boots.
ME: What?!
DEB: Michelle Obama wore thigh-high designer glitter boots. Apparently the Internet blew up about it, and women were saying if they were designing a superhero outfit they would definitely use thigh-high glitter boots. See? So the weapon has to match.
ME: Okay… it’s… a matching color. Anyway, would you tell me to duck—
DEB: No. I’d just knock you out of the way. What if you didn’t duck enough? The bad guy is coming right at us, right? No, I’d just — (pantomimes knocking me out of the way, then thrusting forward with a sword) It’s just easier. Oh, and I’m not wearing one of those bustier things like Wonder Woman. Those are stupid. Especially if I’m fighting, which I’d have to be because I can’t run in those boots.
Copyright ©2018 by Jack Herlocker. All rights reserved, including the right to send my wife over to kick your punk ass while you’re dazzled into blindness by her boots.
