We have a new woman at work. I believe I described her to my husband as “a really, really, really hot Russian babe” when I met her*. Thin yet curvy, light brown hair, ice-blue eyes, pouty lips, exotic accent—this is the woman that anyone typing “mail order bride Russia” into Google is just praying to meet. If she turned out to be one of those scam brides , the guy probably wouldn’t even care. Upon meeting her, I thanked my lucky stars that I am only occasionally in our home office, where she is based. My self-esteem just couldn’t take that kind of ass-kicking on a daily basis.
A couple of weeks after she started, some folks from work did a charity walk. Hot Russian Babe joined us. I also brought my 7 1/2-month-old son. Now, I have recently begun to fear that breastfeeding my son is turning him into an Oedipal Wreck and a boob man extraordinaire** . Supposedly, he is happy as a lark until the moment he sees me enter a room with his Food Sources, and then all hell breaks loose. Weaning this kid is going to be a nightmare.
While we were hanging around before the walk began, Hot Russian Babe asks if she can hold the baby. My boss happened to be running around snapping pictures of all of us that the time, and she just emailed them around.
In the picture of my son with Hot Russian Babe, he is absolutely just mauling her chest. It’s like he’s a 12-year-old boy getting to second base for the first time. It’s like he’s a rock climber about to fall off the mountain and hanging on for dear life. It’s like…well, I don’t know what else it’s like but man, he has a grip on her chest.***
You just know all the guys in the office are looking at these pictures and grumbling, “Damn baby.”
No, I’m not going to link to a picture.
** I do know that this isn’t actually how this happens. I’m just trying to make a point here.
***I said No. I’m NOT going to link to a picture.
You’re not missing much. It’s a takeoff on a punchline from Yakov Smirnoff’s stand-up comedy act. He came from the USSR and still had a pronounced accent (or embellished it for his act), and many of his jokes were about his old homeland, the differences with the U.S. and the hardships and paranoia he left behind. The canonical line is “In Soviet Russia, television watches you.”
Your self-esteem should have absolutely nothing to fear.
[sub]Bring the picture to the next dopefest?[/sub]
And thank you for the reassuring words. Maybe those are worth a picture. Really, though, my main reason for not posting any pictures is that I couldn’t in good conscience post this woman’s picture without her permission. And how could I get her permission? “Say, I was telling an entire message board about how hot you are, and how my son felt you up, and I was wondering if you’d mind if I gave them the evidence…”
Howsabout editing the photo with a simple black bar over her face to protect her indentity? Or crop her head out of the picture; both are very easy to do using even MS Paint. I don’t need to see how hot she is, I just want to see your kid going for the gusto. I want to say, “Damn, baby.” But I’m black so I’ll probably be more like, “Yo, daaaaaaaaaaAAAAaaaaaaaamn, little man.”
Hate to be a spoilsport, but I can see those pervs at BoingBoing linking to this. Then it’ll be slashdotted, the SDMB hamsters will collapse from exhaustion and it’ll be the end of this board.
Our world will end, not with a bang, but with a hooter.
Really, though, my main reason for not posting any pictures is that I couldn’t in good conscience post this woman’s picture without her permission. And how could I get her permission? “Say, I was telling an entire message board about how hot you are, and how my son felt you up, and I was wondering if you’d mind if I gave them the evidence…”