Once again I have to use my strengths of style & wit to avoid strangling Netty. So what better way to do that than to share with you a few stories of when my open minded progressive attitude would conflict with Netty’s close minded Puritan attitude.
The most recent clash is what got me thinking of these past stories. Yesterday was my first day on volunteering at The MALE Center in Boston. The task of the day was to stuff little Baggies with condoms, lubricant and a safe sex pamphlet for the out reach volunteers to pass out the next night.
So while I was working diligently with a nice gentleman named Earl as well as a few others, Netty called to inquire as to what I was doing. I tried to explain to her several times that I was stuffing condoms in Baggies, however the line of communication broke down (i.e. Netty’s a little hard of hearing.) So after a few attempts trying to explain I finally snapped.
Being that I am still fighting a allergies, I did a dead imitation of Bea Arthur in the e
pisode of The Golden Girls, when she was trying point out the condoms in the drugstore to Betty White. “Condoms Ma! Condoms! I’m stuffing condoms!”, I yelled into the phone.
Of course that still didn’t clarify Netty’s perception and she thought I was in a building that was named Condom. That’s when I threw in the towel and I told her I’d explain later when I got home. Plus, the other volunteers were looking at me like I was possessed. What they done have to contend with a scatter-brained mother like I do?
This episode made me reflect back to a couple of trips I had made with Netty in the past to the infamous Theater District of Boston.
The first time was when we went to see Chicago. After the show we were walking back to the car. Of course it being Saturday night there was an abundant population of gay boys in the area due to the few gay clubs in the vicinity.
Well as we were walking, two of them passed by. One of the boys proceeded to whistle at me & I, of course, demurely turned and smiled in return. Upon which Netty in turn questioned if one of those boys whistled at me. So naturally I played dumb and told her I had no idea what she was referring to.
This of course is not the icing on the cake.
That is for when we went into Boston second time to see Sheer Madness. Again Netty and I were walking back to the car after the show. While we were walking we passed a prostitute having a conversation with a john. As we got in the car, Netty noticed the prostitute was heading in our direction. Where upon Netty instructed me to hurry and get in the car because “here ‘she ‘ co
mes. (referring to the hooker).
When we got in to the car, I let Netty in on a little secret. You see due to my keen sense of hearing, I overheard the prostitute talking to the john and made the determination that she was not in fact a she but a he. Upon hearing that tidbit of information, Netty went to a full-blown convulsion and being to scream, “Lock the doors! Step on the gas and get the hell out of here!”
The most recent clash is what got me thinking of these past stories. Yesterday was my first day on volunteering at The MALE Center in Boston. The task of the day was to stuff little Baggies with condoms, lubricant and a safe sex pamphlet for the out reach volunteers to pass out the next night.
So while I was working diligently with a nice gentleman named Earl as well as a few others, Netty called to inquire as to what I was doing. I tried to explain to her several times that I was stuffing condoms in Baggies, however the line of communication broke down (i.e. Netty’s a little hard of hearing.) So after a few attempts trying to explain I finally snapped.
Being that I am still fighting a allergies, I did a dead imitation of Bea Arthur in the e
pisode of The Golden Girls, when she was trying point out the condoms in the drugstore to Betty White. “Condoms Ma! Condoms! I’m stuffing condoms!”, I yelled into the phone.Of course that still didn’t clarify Netty’s perception and she thought I was in a building that was named Condom. That’s when I threw in the towel and I told her I’d explain later when I got home. Plus, the other volunteers were looking at me like I was possessed. What they done have to contend with a scatter-brained mother like I do?
This episode made me reflect back to a couple of trips I had made with Netty in the past to the infamous Theater District of Boston.
The first time was when we went to see Chicago. After the show we were walking back to the car. Of course it being Saturday night there was an abundant population of gay boys in the area due to the few gay clubs in the vicinity.
Well as we were walking, two of them passed by. One of the boys proceeded to whistle at me & I, of course, demurely turned and smiled in return. Upon which Netty in turn questioned if one of those boys whistled at me. So naturally I played dumb and told her I had no idea what she was referring to.
This of course is not the icing on the cake.
That is for when we went into Boston second time to see Sheer Madness. Again Netty and I were walking back to the car after the show. While we were walking we passed a prostitute having a conversation with a john. As we got in the car, Netty noticed the prostitute was heading in our direction. Where upon Netty instructed me to hurry and get in the car because “here ‘she ‘ co
mes. (referring to the hooker).When we got in to the car, I let Netty in on a little secret. You see due to my keen sense of hearing, I overheard the prostitute talking to the john and made the determination that she was not in fact a she but a he. Upon hearing that tidbit of information, Netty went to a full-blown convulsion and being to scream, “Lock the doors! Step on the gas and get the hell out of here!”
Unfortunately I couldn’t move fast enough because due to Netty’s spectacle I was having my own convulsion. However mine was caused my humor and not horror.
After sharing these stories, I realize I really need to get a job. Not so much to pay the bills, but to pay off the few relatives who know about my blog and to keep their mouths shut. Because if one of them ever decided to throw me under the bus & tell Netty where to find my blog on line, I’m as good as dead.
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