Recent conversation between me and my coworker DiscoJamboree, who has the horrible job of auditing the tickets to local attractions that we occasionally sell to employees:
DJ (huffily throwing himself into one of my chairs): So I just had to send out an email to everyone in our department because none of you are selling tickets correctly.
Me: Weird. I was coming to tell you that I just sold a bunch of tickets for some hair.
DJ: Oh. Awesome.
Me: I wish I really had some hair to give you now because that would make this even funnier.
DJ: *not laughing at all*
Me: For me.
DJ: Do you have any idea how difficult it is to rectify these sales? The other day someone came in and tried to buy tickets for. their. word.
Me: Which word?
DJ: No, like someone came in and ordered three tickets and when I told them how much it was they were all, “Well, I don’t have any money…but I give you my word.”
Me: Well that’s…kinda fucked up. But I like my way better. Like if they offered their word and I’d be all “Okay, hit me” and they’d be like, “Okay, ready? …Tintinnabulation” And I’d be all, “Damn. That’s a pretty kickass word. Here’s your tickets”.
DJ: Yeah, but in real life they’d probably say something useless. Like, I dunno…”sponge”.
Me: Or “snausages”.
DJ: And you’d have to be like, “Okay, just no. We have standards. Please leave.”
Me: Exactly. Hey, do you know what a “haberdasher” is? Because I just found out I’ve been using it wrong for…my entire life.
DJ: I use that word all the time and I have absolutely no idea what it means. I just randomly yell it at people as an insult, like“You insolent haberdasher!” Like a Victorian alternative to “asshole”. Isn’t it a ‘hat dealer’ or something?
Me: That’s what I thought, but I totally got called out for using the word incorrectly.
DJ: Hmm…google it.
Me: Okay… “Haberdasher: A dealer in notions.” Dude. I’m a dealer in notions.
DJ: Me too! I deal in notions all the fucking time. We’re freaking haberdashers, dude. Kick-ass.
Me: Yeah, like right now? I’ve totally got a good notion to sell some tickets for hair.
DJ: You. Fucking. Haberdasher.
PS. This isn’t really a “recent” conversation. It’s more like a “two-week-old-conversation-that-I-forgot-to-publish-because-of-this-damn-hurricane”. All of my real recent conversations have involved insurance appraisers and two staight days of being bed-ridden with fever dreams, which I blame on brushing my teeth with contaminated water and not on eating spoiled sour cream because the contaminated water thing sounds more exciting. I was gonna write about how this whole you-must -boil-all-your-water-after-a-hurricane-or-you-will-die thing was a total hassle because I was spending all my time boiling water to flush the toilet, but that my toilet has never been cleaner, except that that black floaty thingy melted to the inside of the toilet tank the first time I poured boiling water in there and clearly was not tested to withstand hurricanes, but after two days of feeling like I was going to die it all seems slightly not as funny and makes much less sense now. Possibly because I’m still delirious. Or not delirious enough. Probably the last one.
Comment of the day ~ Masterbasher: A dealer in lotions. ~ Karen