Hmm, Me Thinks He Doth Protest Too Much

What is Mark hiding? Mark: Why do you ask? (Hmm, methinks he doth protest too much...) #funny

So then…I pick up my office phone in hopes that I can get some work done today.

It seems everyone I call this afternoon is distracted by a meeting just about to start — or they’re at lunch — or out running an errand.

I dial the cell phone of Mark Wilson — Vice President at a company bidding to be our vendor.  I’m hoping he’s available to discuss the proposal that his firm submitted.

Ring, ring.

“Mark Wilson,” he says a little hesitantly.

“Hey, Mark, it’s Darcy Perdu. Can you talk?”

“Well, yeah.” Pause. “I’m not drunk, if that’s what you mean.”


I burst out laughing. “Drunk? Why would I think you’re drunk, Mark? Are you in the habit of imbibing during the business day? It’s only 2:00, for God’s sake!”

“No, it’s just that you asked if I ‘can talk.’ Of course I can talk. Let’s talk.” He says all this a little quickly, a little defensively.

Is he joking around? Or is he pulling a BFM? (Barney Fife Maneuver)

You know, like when Sheriff Andy says, “Barney, the bank robber escaped! Where is he?”

And Barney says, “I have no idea where he is, boss. He’s certainly not hiding under the desk!”

Of course Barney’s nervousness results in him admitting the very thing he’s trying to hide!

So is Mark actually drunk — and trying to unsuccessfully divert attention from that fact?

Or does he just have a warped sense of humor?

Either way, I’m putting his company’s bid at the top of my list.

— Darcy Perdu

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(Any fun work stories to share? Odd behavior of vendors or co-workers?)

Porno Pictionary

The FUNNIEST Difference between Men and Women (Hint: Porno Pictionary!)  #funny #games #menvswomen  #humor

So then…he raises his voice above the din and announces, “All right, no more trash talkin’ – it’s the moment of truth. Girls – 9; Guys – 9.” Andy raises his beer, spilling a little in his enthusiasm, and waves a small slip of paper. “So THIS is the tie breaker which will prove once and for all that MEN are the intellectually superior race!”

The guys cheer and the girls groan and boo. We throw popcorn at Andy, who tries to dodge the kernels, spilling even more beer. Eight of us drove up from Manhattan for the weekend. We’ve been skiing all day, so now it’s pizza and popcorn back at our rental cabin for Game Night before hitting the slopes again tomorrow morning.

I tell my team confidently, “No worries. We’ll nail this.” I spread out blank sheets of paper on the dining table so that the other 3 girls can clearly see what I’m about to draw.

The guys are hunched over the coffee table with their papers and pens.

Andy draws me over, ceremoniously holding the slip of paper aloft. “OK, Darcy and I will look at the Pictionary clue – top-secretly – then whoever can draw it and have their team guess the answer first is the WINNNNNNNER!”

He opens the crinkly paper to reveal the words, “Peter Pan.” I smile and race to my table. Andy ambles over to his.

The girls crowd around me as I quickly draw Peter Pan on the paper. They guess:
Boy? Girl?
Dwarf? Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!?

Oh for Pete’s sake! I shake my head dramatically. Now I scribble a fast sketch of Tinkerbell. As I try to draw it, they shout-whisper because they don’t want the guys to hear their answers:
A baby?
A flying baby?

Oh my god! How much beer have my friends had? How can they not see this is clearly Tinkerbell? Now I grab more paper and try to draw a stickman version of Captain Hook on the ship. They’re jumping around in their seats. I’m scribbling furiously. They shout-whisper frantically:
A man?
A ship?
A man with a weird hand?
Oh! Edward Scissorhands? Edward Scissorhands on the Titanic?!

Just then, all 4 guys shout in unison: PETER PAN!!

We dash over to their table to see what drawing could possibly result in such a quick, unanimous response.

On the paper, Andy has drawn only two things: a penis and a pot.

— Darcy Perdu

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My friend shared this Mardi Gras photo he found
which is just about perfect for this post:
Peter Pan

(How about you – any good Game Night stories? Any evidence in the Men vs. Women Intellectual Wars?)

Biker Beauty?

So then…I swoop down the hill on my bike, zipping through the bike path at Mason Park, and just as I gracefully glide around a massive oak tree, I see him again. My lips can’t help curving into a smile as I recognize the sleek blue car with the attractive dark-haired guy behind the wheel glancing at me admiringly.

And why shouldn’t he? I ain’t no supermodel, but damn, I’m looking good! Birthin’ two babies in the past couple years sent my body weight careening into Orson Wellsian proportions, so I frantically adopted the advice of every weight-loss guru since the beginning of time: “Eat Less, Move More.”

I’m pretty proud to reach my pre-pregnancy weight (minus 5 lbs), so yes, I am wearing a bikini top with tight little biker shorts. And my daily bike rides in the California sun have tanned my long limbs a lovely warm brown. So I’m a little flattered that Sleek Blue Car Guy has driven past me a few times at the park.

As I’m loading my bike onto the back of my car, he drives over and says, “Hey, you’re pretty cute. Do you have a boyfriend?”

Suddenly I flashback to another guy who said the exact same thing to me a few years ago at this very park. I hadn’t had kids yet, but I was married, so when a fellow bike rider stopped me to say, “Hey, you’re pretty cute. Do you have a boyfriend?” I said, “Oh, not only do I have a boyfriend — I have a husband!” (I meant that a husband was even more serious than a boyfriend, so I really couldn’t go out with Nice Bike Rider guy.) But the guy jokingly interpreted it that I had BOTH a boyfriend AND a husband, so he laughed and said, “Oh, well, you must be really busy – I guess you don’t have time for me too?” And we both laughed and waved and rode our separate ways into the sunset – him feeling proud of his witty remark – and me feeling flattered to have attracted his interest in the first place.

So now, as I’m faced with a similar situation – and in fact, the same question, I smile and cleverly say, “Oh, not only do I have a boyfriend — I have a husband – and two kids!”

The car guy looks at me, frowns, and says, “Jeez, I didn’t ask for your whole life story.”

And he speeds off.


I stand here totally deflated.

I was trying to reject him in a graceful, witty way – and he rejected me!! Instead of feeling flattered, now I’m feeling guilty that I bored him with my verbose personal history!

But I mean really, I only said 15 words! Was I really imposing on his time so much as I conveyed my “whole life story?” I want to yell at his receding bumper, “YOU stalked ME for half an hour, you jerk!”

I turn to my car and pull the last strap in place for my bike. I console myself with the thought that Car Guy was probably just looking for naïve women to fall for his line so he could sell them into the Serbian sex slave trade.

In which case, I’m glad I’m married and have two kids. I don’t even like baklava.

So there.

— Darcy Perdu

(Heard any good pick-up lines? Any gentle rejections? Share your stories of first meetings or awkward over-sharing in the Comments Section!)

Wrangle Those Bosoms!

So then…she peeks outside the curtain of the dressing room and whispers excitedly, “Is she back yet?” Chloe is literally giddy with joy.

She is being fitted for her first bra. She is 9.

Most of her classmates are already 10 and have begun wearing bras to school.

Chloe feels the time is right for her too. “Mom, I really – really – need a bra!”

So off to Nordstroms we go, since the department store is known for its professional lingerie ladies who work with you to find the perfect fit.

Saleslady Myra returns to the dressing room with 3 more selections. Chloe tries them on. Myra adjusts straps and hooks. She talks about fabric and breathability and the importance of the careful care and cleaning of one’s bras.

Chloe is soaking it all up, reveling in this “big girl” experience.

As we exit the store, we’re both grinning, satisfied that she’s succeeded in purchasing two bras in the correct size, fabric, and color.

Every day, she ceremoniously dons a bra before getting dressed, making a big production of it – shutting the door, whispering, looking at me meaningfully since this sort of thing can only be discussed between two women such as us.

One day, she can’t find them right away, so she’s in a panic. “Mom, Mom, I can’t find my bras! I can’t go to school without a braaaaaaaa!”

Oh, the horror!

I want to point out that until very recently she was breezy and braless every day at school and everywhere else – and she could probably get by for one day without the world being aghast in alarm. But I merely help her locate the errant underclothes and she quickly puts one on with great relief.

She loves wearing a bra. She calls her grandmother in Florida. “You know, Grammy, I’m wearing a bra now,” she says quite seriously. Grammy oohs and aahs and makes the appropriate congratulatory remarks.  Every time a Victoria’s Secret commercial comes on, Chloe shoots me a conspiratorial grin.

This excitement goes on for about 3 weeks, then Chloe turns to me one day and says thoughtfully, “By the way, Mom, what does a bra do exactly?”

–Darcy Perdu

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(What’s your story? Have your kids absolutely had to have something? Do you remember your first bra? Any bra mishaps? Share some good bra stories about you or your relatives in the Comments Section!)

Cop Flat Out Refuses My Offer

Cop Flat Out Refuses My Offer (He is havin' NONE of it -- but WHY?)  #funny #cop #speeding #birthday #cookies #Lent #car #humor

So then…I hear the sirens and instinctively, I know it’s me. Of course it’s me.

And on my 32nd birthday, no less!

I pull over to the side of the road and a young cop approaches my window.

“License and registration, please.”

I root around in the glove compartment for the registration, slip out my driver’s license, and flash him my best sorry-officer-please-just-give-me-a-warning smile.

He goes back to his patrol car, then returns with a quizzical look.

“Your driver’s license address doesn’t match your registration address,” he says.

“Oh, yeah, that’s my old driver’s license. Here’s my new one with my new address,” I say, handing him another one.

Now he’s even more confused.  “This license is signed by Maria Hernandez. Who’s Maria Hernandez?”

“I dunno – maybe the lady in front of me in the DMV line? The DMV must have mixed up the signatures.” I smile helpfully.  “So that’s why I carry both the old and the new ones – so together, ya know–”

“Do you know it’s illegal to carry an expired license?”

“Um, no.”

“And your registration is not even for this car. This registration is for a different car from 2 years ago,” he says, pointing to the slip.

“Oh, yeah, but this is the same exact model. I just leased the same exact kind of car, so the registration should be similar,” I say, using that tone of voice indicating this is really a potato – po-tah-to type of situation.

He smiles, but says, “Sorry — we don’t deal in ‘similars’ – we deal in actuals.

“I’m so sorry, officer. I promise I’ll put the current registration card in the car – and I’ll even go to the DMV to take care of the Maria Gonzalez situation. So is that OK? — can you let me off with a warning?”

“But I didn’t stop you for all that. I stopped you for speeding.”


I see the plate of homemade cookies my co-worker gave me at my birthday lunch today. I move the plate from the passenger seat to the window and say to my nice young cop, “Will you let me bribe you with these delicious homemade cookies my friend gave me?”

He laughs and says, “Sorry, I gave up sugar for Lent.”

“Yeah, well — I gave up speeding — and you can see how well that’s working out.”

Apparently, that’s the response that gets the laugh — and the warning, instead of a ticket.

AND I don’t even have to share my cookies.

— Darcy Perdu

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(OK, out with it – I KNOW you have a cop story! Share it in the Comments Section!)