Today I had my taxes prepared. We've been using the same company for over 13 years now. Only this year was a little more interesting. The accountant had five piercings in each ear, and one in her nose. To each their own. I've always had the opinion that piercings and tattoos are like religion. You can do what you want, but please don't shove your thoughts and opinions about it down my throat.
Same names. Same social security numbers. Same address. Same blah blah we're boring no death, divorce, property sales or purchases, or anything to make her job any more difficult than it had to be. She looked up at my husband and said, "Wow, you're a firefighter? I bet you have some run some weird calls. What's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you?" He replies that he's not sure.
My poor husband is often very dense. While there are times I love using it to my advantage, I could see exactly where this was going. As he related a story about a patient who seemed perfectly fine one minute, and dead the next, she appeared totally crestfallen. This was not the kind of weird she wanted to hear, at all. She blurted, "That's not weird! That's depressing!" I tried not to be a smartass. I really, really tried. I promise, I tried very hard, Alot.
But sometimes, I just cannot help myself. I looked at her. I looked at my husband. I looked back at her, and said, "Honey, tell her about the guy with the cock ring." Out of the corner of my eye I saw his face turn crimson as hers brightened. She exclaimed, "That's weird!"
Sadly, my poor fireman stammered and "um'ed" and "ah'ed" until I had to tell the story. My version was condensed. Just enough weird to intrigue her. Just enough "ahem" to put her back on the task at hand. For a brief moment I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe she really didn't have that in mind. But then, she asked him about the weirdest thing he'd found on a house fire. And he's run across some pretty weird stuff.
She used it to segue into a story about a vibrator. You know how you want to tell something, about yourself, but it's embarrassing so you say, "This one time my friend...." Yeah. It was totally about her.
As a tax preparation person, she did an adequate job. That being said, I miss the other person who used to work there. I miss her, Alot.
