That’s a Damn Shame

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Sometimes, something unexpected happens and it’s funny in that never-intended-to-be-funny way that gives you the giggles because your mind wanders off the reservation as it works to interpret the unexpected event.

Playing poker last night in a private house game, there was a young woman in Seat 4, who for purposes of this blog I’ll call “Genevieve.”  Her boyfriend also was in the room, seated at a different table.  Genevieve was wearing an off the shoulder top, the kind that has an elastic band to hold it in position above her breasts and across the upper arms.

Suddenly, Genevieve had to sneeze.  So she pulled the front of her top forward and upwards, dipped her face, and sneezed violently right inside of her garment.  Twice.  After a round of Bless You’s from multiple players, she announced that she wasn’t done yet, then yanked her top open and sneezed in there again.  More Bless You’s.

Meanwhile, we’re in the middle of a poker hand, and the action is on me.  And I’m thinking to myself: “Self, I don’t know exactly what (or how much) just discharged out of Genevieve’s nose or mouth, but now it’s all over her boobs.”  And struggled and largely failed to suppress the giggles.

The player next to me notices and catches my eye.  Like me, he’s middle aged and easily old enough to be Genevieve’s father.  After folding, I said very softly to him that I bet I knew what he was thinking.

“That’s a damn shame,” he whispered back, shaking his head slowly as a grin spread across his face.  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

Genevieve seemed mildly self-conscious about her sneezing.  “Don’t worry,” she said.  “I promise it’s not getting on the cards.”

This is so much more fun than sitting home watching Netflix!


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