Blunt Force Trauma

 Another week, another nerd-fest on the road.  Surveying the room — 200+ members of Geek Nation in attendance — i was sitting with my friend SR, a proud member of the Dawg Boyz*.  He noticed my new hair cut…

SR:  You’re looking good!  Nice do..

daisyfae:  i swiped the idea from that hot stripper your wife** hooked me up with on our last adventure in Fort Myers…

SR:  I thought it looked familiar.

We caught up on happenings over the past few months.  He wanted an update on my current crop of boy toys gentlemen friends.  After providing the latest scores and highlights, i mentioned the perpetual restlessness that marks my state of mind.  Scanning the room, i said “Hypothetically, let’s say i wanted to get laid at this meeting…  What do you see?”

SR:  I see that you’ve made a terrible career choice!  Holy shit, that would be like me with a terminal boner in a room full of toothless hags!

He helpfully pointed out a few attractive young post-doctoral research types.  “Naaaaah.  Too young.  i’m looking for a recently divorced professor, a little broken and bitter.  Looking for trouble, not romance!”

SR:  Holy FUCK!  That was me ten years ago!  Where were you then?  We missed the window!

We continued to talk shit and horse around during a particularly off-the-wall presentation.  After the talk, a colleague of SR’s walked up to our table in the back of the room, with the intention to throw a few jabs at the prior presentation.  SR introduced me to this unexpectedly non-dorky gent.

SR:  daisyfae?  Have you met Alex?  Alex?  This is daisyfae.  She’s trying to get laid…


* This is a small, but enthusiastic, troupe of drunken yabs who lead our little corner of the technical community in drinkin’ and whorin’ excursions.

** SR’s wife, GR, is the only other female member of the Dawg Boyz.  She can hold her own.  The last excursion – which she led – was a mere two months after she shelled out twins.  i bow down at her altar….