When I was in high school, our Spanish Club took a trip to Mexico. As this was an educational tour, we went to many historical and religious sites.
We were in the city of Taxco, and our guide told us that the town church has a painting of a pregnant Virgin Mary. My buddy Ralph (an other wise pretty intelligent fellow) said, “How the hell can a virgin be pregnant”?
I said, “It was a miracle.” We’d been hearing of various miracles all through our tour of the country, so Ralph said, “They have too many miracles in Mexico”.
“uh, Ralph? That one didn’t happen here”.
I know that he wasn’t raised with any religious teaching, but it’s pretty hard to live in the Western world and not have some familiarity with that story!
Some time ago I was sitting in a cafe with my girlfriend (at the time). Now, this was in a little town up in the Catskill Mountains, and they may not have had the best school system around there, but it still doesn’t excuse what happened:
It’s just me . . . and my girlfriend. No one else is at the table.
The waitress takes our food order, and asks what we’d like to drink.
I said, “A couple of Pepsis, please.”
The waitress looked at me dumbfounded and said, “Uhhhh . . . how many do you want???”
Had Bill Engvall been popular then, I may have said, “Fifteen. And I’ll leave you your sign as a tip.”
I was driving with my boyfriend at the time and his friends. When we stopped, we realized the gas cap was missing, and gas had spilled out all over the side of the car.
So, perky little ivylass waves her hand in front of her face and says, “Whooo! That smells like gas!!”
This one happened today during lunch. I told my friends that I was going to get my lunch, and would be back in a few minutes. I came back after like 10 minutes (super duper long line), with my tray in hand. So my friend turns to me, with a dead serious face and asked “Where were you? The bathroom?”
:smack:
So I told her. “Yes, I was in the bathroom. They replaced the (broken) tampon dispenser with a pizza stand. Oh, and while I was there, I picked up your sign.”
Two friends of mine and I were having lunch in a fairly full restaurant. One, who I’ll call M, mentioned, “There’s a hot girl at 3 o’clock.” The other, G, asked, “Your three or my three?” The bad part of this was that they were sitting on the same side of the table.
It gets worse.
M and I give each other the “what the hell” look, and M tells G, “Mine.” Upon hearing this, G looked to his left.