Monday, June 3, 2013

Bench Girl

Fleeting Thoughts After Reading That In Late Eighteenth Century Britain, A Person Could Be Hanged For Impersonating An Egyptian

Thought #1

Last night, someone told me to put my ego on my vagina. I'm not really sure what this means. Advice from a stranger in a bar regarding your vagina is not exactly a "norm" for me. I can't even recall the last time my vagina was spoken of, though I'm leaning toward a game of Scattergories that took place five years ago. I rolled an "N" and my sister and her boyfriend thought it would be just hilarious, and not weird or obsessive in any way, to involve me in every answer.

The Categories

1. Things You Don't Want in the House
2. Things You're Afraid Of
3. Things You Dream About
4. Things to Do with Leftover Turkey
5. Parts of the Body

Their Answers

1. Natasha
2. Natasha's vagina
3. Not Natasha's vagina
4. Natasha's vag
5. Neck

They erupted into laughter every time my private parts were announced. Just for the record, leftover turkey and my vagina have never come into contact. There's got to be a "gobble gobble" joke in there somewhere, but it's not coming to me at the moment. Make your own turkey sex jokes. I'm not the Little Red Hen. Or the Little Vagina Turkey. Wow. I don't think I've ever used both those words consecutively before. (By the way, I'm talking about "vagina turkey," not "or the," just to avoid any confusion.)

I think I've officially surpassed my "Mention Your Vagina Some More" quota. Along with my "Talk About Things No One Wants to Hear About" quota. I apologize, but I've never heard anyone advise me to put my ego on my vagina before. Come to think of it, I've never heard anyone tell me to put anything on my vagina before. Not ON, anyway. This is going to bother me for weeks.

Thought #2

Today's Conversation Between My Cat and I

"Meow! Meow! Meow!"


"Meow! Meow! Meow!"


"Meow! Meow! Meow!"


"Meow! Meow! Meow!"


Surprisingly, my threats failed to faze him. Possibly because he's had a few job offers that I don't know about. Or because he doesn't speak English. I'm not quite sure.

Thought #3

My biggest mistake of the week was starting a book about Australia. While it's a fascinating read, it has rendered me helpless in having any type of normal conversation with another human being. All that consumes my mind is shrimp, and barbies, and putting the shrimp on those barbies. I've tried to engage in normal discourse, but an unfortunate thing begins to occur. I've illustrated the interaction below. Please note that the words in bold are the "trigger words" that ignite a certain reaction in my brain.

"Are you hungry? If you are, we can---"

Canberra is the capital of Australia.

"That's gonna cost you ten---"

The top ten poisonous snakes live in Australia.

"Man, it's so hot---"

The highest recorded temperature in Australia is 123 degrees Fahrenheit.

"Don't cry---"

Key. Key. Cry-key. Crikey! 



I tried to free my brain and release this Australian wisdom, but the problem with this is that there's never really a great opportunity to share Australian wisdom.

"Can I get another beer, please?"

"Yeah, can I get one, too?"

"Apparently all Aborigines are alcoholics and Australians hate them because they're always half-naked and wasted."


Then someone changed the subject. Back to something American, I assume. Or something relevant. Or useful. Or about anything other than the addictive personalities of bushmen tribes. I went ahead and stored "Beverage Preferences Among People in Loin Cloths" in my "Shit No One Gives a Fuck About" file.

Thought #4

My nicknames this week have not been their best. Within seven days, I have been deemed the following:

1. Natty Lite
2. Lezzy
3. Bench Girl

Natty Lite from Natasha - no association with the canned urine sample. Lezzy - short for Lesbian, which I'm not, as I've already explained, and our newest addition - Bench Girl! I like to think of myself as a superhero, similar to Tank Girl and Batgirl, except my powers aren't exactly "unique," since most humans can sit. I do change it up a bit, though, I'm proud to say. Sometimes, as I'm posted up on my Walgreens bench, where many people have recently caught sightings of me, I cross my legs. Sometimes I leave them uncrossed. Sometimes, I even criss-cross applesauce - an uncommon seated position for the average bench. At times, I'll look to my right. Other times, the left is glanced at. I rarely look straight ahead, for that's too predictable. The key to sitting on a bench is to look like you have a purpose there. It is your calling. You are not just waiting on your ride. You. Are. Bench Girl. Without you, no bench would ever be heated by your supernatural bench buns. 

I'm not sure where else to go with this. Just picture me in a cape on a bench and we'll move on. 

Thought #5

Because five thoughts look better than four---



Olivia Madlock said...

i love your writing style, and your bantar is off the charts halarious! keep it up girl!

Natasha said...

Thanks, Olivia! I appreciate it! Awesome picture of you, by the way : )