Gay Turtles: Conversations From Happy Hour
The following are actual excerpts from happy hour on May 5th,
2016. Except where I interject, the two gents involved are senior citizens.
While it was indeed Cinco de Mayo, use your own judgement as to whether alcohol
was involved.
“Why is so cold? One of those Roberta clippers or
something?”
“Alberta
clipper.”
“
“I need a hoodie or something.”
“I can get a plastic bag and put it over your head.”
“Reckon that’ll work?”
“We could find out.”
“Why did you paint that rock black?”
“My granddaughter’s pet rabbit died, and I told her I’d make
a headstone for it.”
“Why did you paint it black?”
“So when I put the rabbit’s name on it, it would stand out.”
Me: “When did it die?”
“Two years ago.”
Me: “You think she’ll even remember she had a pet rabbit?”
“She will after I show her the tombstone.”
“I had a pet turtle once. Before I let it go, I painted its
name on its back.”
“Why did you do that?”
“So if someone found him, they’d know what his name was.”
“What was his name?”
“Louie.”
“Isn’t that the name of your cat?”
“Yeah, I name all my pets Louie. That way, you don’t ever
forget what to call them.”
“Do you know for certain the turtle was a him?”
“No, I don’t. It could have been a her. Or a gay turtle.”
“Is there a such thing as a gay turtle? How would you know
if it was gay?”
“Turn him over, I reckon.”
Me: “Turning the turtle over doesn’t prove whether or not
it’s gay. You have to ask him.”
Stupid old men.