Free-Floating Hostility

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

The Electra Complex and the Feminist Bouncer

As I have been both busy and depressed for the past few days I haven't had a lot of my own stories to tell. So I will tell my classmates' stories instead. This one was supplied (with permission) by Paola. Let me preface the story by saying that Paola is a very sexy girl. If I were going to step out on Mike with anyone in the Epi/Bio program, it would probably be her. What?

Anyway, on Saturday night Paola was out drinking with a girl who works for her father, a doctor. When they had arrived at the bar, Paola's companion had been too shy to ask the bouncer what he was wearing that made him smell so good, so Paola took matters into her own hands and found out that it was some kind of essential oil. But as the evening progressed the other girl had imbibed more and more courage juice until she had reached Stage IV: Personal Revelations (Stages I-III for those of you who don't know are Musicality, Foreign Languages and Flirting).

"Paola," she said, "I'm really not supposed to tell you this. But I'm drunk, so I'm going to tell you anyway." Well, who can resist that kind of intelligence? No one, so Paola encouraged her to continue, assuring her all was well.

"Paola," the girl repeated gravely, "Your father...thinks your face...looks like a loaf."

After this Paola was laughing so hard that the nice-smelling bouncer came over to make sure everything was okay and she was forced to protest that she wasn't the one who was shitfaced. He accepted her defense, but called her Ms. Giggles for the rest of the night. Characteristic bouncer wit, but I think it's sweet that he had the manners to call her Ms.

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