we had dinner the other night with someone i will call a pseudo in-law once removed (it's a long story).
in the event that she might be reading this, i'll change her name so as to make it unrecognizeable.
so let's see ... pilor is an interesting person.
she's what some folk might describe as a shoot-from-the-hipster.
i'd tend to agree with that if you add in her bawdy banter.
an excerpt of a conversation follows:
keaton: oh yeah, bob has a blog that he has been writing for over a year.
pilor: a blog?!! i can't think of anything more f*cking self-indulgent!
me: um ... well normally i'd agree with you but this is different!
pilor: oh praytell, how so?
me: um ... well ...
pilor: how many f*ckin' people read it?
keaton: he has some regulars, don't you hon?
me: um ... let's see ... um
pilor: why would anyone be interested in what you have to say?
me: gee ... i don't know.
pilor: i mean, i'm just saying. i'm not singling you out or anything.
me: oh ... whew ... that's good because for a moment there it was feeling like you were.
pilor: nah! just f*ckin' with you. so you write a blog, how sweetly mundane.
me: oh, it's nothin' really.
pilor: well, no argument here.
there you have it, a conversation with pilor.
now don't get me wrong.
i enjoy feisty, verbal gamesmanship.
and since i'm better at taking a ribald roundhouse than giving a witty jab, pilor is loads of fun to tangle with, which is probably why i look forward to these dinners, in the same way someone on death row looks forward to that last meal—it's gonna taste sweet but the price is pretty darn hefty.