In the elevator at work, coming back from lunch out by the water. With me are my coworkers Caprese, Potato, and Danish…our new thing is referring to each other by ethnic food stereotypes, isn’t that great? I’m Cannoli. Anyway, getting onto the elevator at work, joined by three rather good-looking resident guys.
Cannoli (that’s me, remember?): [to Potato] Yeah, I’ve always done the nice-guy-monogamous-relationship thing. I’m done with that. Girl, you GOTTA take me with you to Cowgirl’s Inc* one of these weekends.
*Cowgirls’ Inc. widely known as the most physically disgusting and horrid bar in all of Pioneer Square. Which is saying something, apparently, not that I would know.
Potato: Dude, NO. I can’t go there anymore.
Cannoli: Why?
Potato: I just can’t. It’s just all gross hookups and it’s filthy.
[elevator starts going up]
Cannoli: Well, it’s probably fine. Knowing me I wouldn’t even get to hook up there, I’d just end up dispensing therapy to all the drunk frat boys.
Potato: “Your hand seems to be on my ass right now. How does that make you feel?”
Cannoli: It’s the same reason I can’t ever go to a strip club.
[elevator goes silent]
Cannoli: Aaaaand the elevator goes silent.
Resident Guy: Wait, what’s this about strip clubs?
Danish and Caprese: [making Shut Up Now motions]
Cannoli: [thinking maybe she didn’t enunciate clearly enough] Oh, you know. I was just saying that I can’t ever go to a strip club because I’d be getting the lap dance and I’d be all “So, what kind of social services are you needing right now?” and start making referrals and that would kind of ruin it. You know.
Potato: Yeah, you’d be all doing therapy in the VIP room.
Cannoli: Yeah. “Tell me about your family of origin…”
Resident Guy: So, uh, where do you guys work?
[elevator stops and the Resident Guys get off at the same floor]
Potato: Seriously, you have to be careful at Cowgirl’s Inc. You get herpes just walking in the door.
Danish and Caprese: [horrified looks]
Cannoli: Wow, I love your storytelling arcs here. Really compelling narrative and plot thrust, there, Potato.
Potato: Oh, don’t do your therapizing on me, missy.
Cannoli: I won’t if you give me a lap dance.
[Potato does a little shimmy. Resident Guys walk a little faster to catch up with us.]
Resident Guy: Dude.
Other Resident Guy: Whoa.
Potato: Okay, but its five dollars.
Cannoli: Girl, don’t sell yourself short.
Resident Guy: Dude.
Danish and Caprese: [rolling eyes, shaking heads]
[Danish, Caprese, Potato and Cannoli reach their office. Resident Guys amble on past us, looking slightly more struck by the conversation than really was completely necessary because, whatever, strip clubs and lap dances. Yawn. I guess their residencies don’t let them get out much].
Cannoli: [to Resident Guys] Okay, well, see you guys later!
[They skitter away]
[Everyone goes back to their desks and settles down for a productive afternoon].
Potato: WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY FILTERS?
Cannoli: Why are we single? It is SUCH a MYSTERY.