Intellectual Chit Chat
When I was a kid, my parents implemented what they liked to call Intellectual Chit Chat. We practiced Intellectual Chit Chat over dinner. This severely limited dinnertime conversation. We usually ate in silence.
Saturday afternoon, I went to a horse show. I thought it was a donkey show, so I signed up. We competed in all kinds of uppity horsey events like dressage, stadium jumping, endurance, and Connect Four.
My knowledge of horses is limited to Do Not Stand Behind a Horse. Also, I know that horses cannot discriminate between sugar cubes and fingers holding sugar cubes. I tried to feed my horse Splenda as he really didn't need all those excess calories. He still bit my fingers. Dieting makes people, and horses grumpy.
After the ribbon ceremony (Vicki took third, I took a fifth of vodka), we returned to the inn to shower and get ready for dinner. We did not shower together, but we helped each other out of our riding boots. We dined at a lovely local restaurant with her stable hands. Stable hands is probably not the right word. The people who take care of Vicki's horses are former Olympians. They know what they are doing. They bend their knees when they shovel horse sh*t, not with their backs.
I ordered oysters and mussels and shrimp and grits and a salad. I tried my best not to order anything with four legs because I was sensitive to the people that I was dining with who loved four legged animals; people who ordered lamb and veal and gazelle and koala and other cute animals.
I was on my best behavior throughout dinner. I tried my best. Really. It is really, really difficult for me to keep the conversation clean when it keeps turning back to horse semen, especially when I am staring at a plate of oysters. You see, there are certain kinds of horses that are so well bred that you cannot simply send their semen via regular mail. They have to bred live and in person. I know all about it now.
I haven't started online dating yet, but when I do, I promise that I will be discriminating enough to only choose sires who's sperm is so golden that I actually have to be mounted. None of that mail order, dry ice semen for me.
I am a classy girl.