Saturday, March 2, 2013


I was somewhere that wasn't my apartment complex or my parent's and a conversation began. It was with a sixty something male and a twenty something female and for the life of me I cannot precisely remember how we got onto the subject of dogs, but there we were.

Man. "What kind of dogs are they?
Me. "German Drahthaar and Chocolate Lab. But they aren't mine, they are my parent's. I have rabbits."
Man. "Oh, do you ever make rabbit stew?"
Me. I flip my head so hard at him you could hear my neck crack. Then I say with scrunched up eyes and my shoulders pulled back "WHAAAHHHT? Well, we WERE getting along well."
Man. Keeps on talking despite the warning and the heat coming off my body "Yeah, we used to raise rabbits and I got to choose the ones to be put in the feeding pens. (he stands up and comes closer to me) My Mother used to make chicken and rabbit stew and I could tell the difference between the chicken bones and the rabbit bones......."
Me. This man is still talking but I am making the "UNH-UNH" noise so loud over him, and I say again "Seriously, we were getting along." Then I hold my hand up and make the noise again as he starts to describe the texture of rabbit meat. "UNH-UNH"
Me. I look at the young girl. She is horrified. Underneath this verbal traffic accident she had stated she might want a rabbit, having had a guinea pig in the past, but our conversation got hijacked. I steer myself back to her and show her pictures of my guys.

I asked a few friends how on earth any sane person would think this was an acceptable line of conversation. She said he must have been from Wyoming. (She can say this as she is from Wyoming) She also said she can't believe I didn't slap him.

I predict one day it will happen.

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The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.