Monday, November 14, 2011

Plank Pathetic & A Pair of Characters…

Saturday night, I went over to assist a disabled friend who is the process of moving from an apartment into a condo. I’ve been trying to make myself available to her to help move some of the larger heavier items and also some of the articles that are higher up. We were sitting and taking a break at then end of the night.  As we are gabbing along the subject of my ability to do the plank position came up. She says she does it all the time as part of her therapy. I’m starting to feel about 4 inches tall because here’s a disabled person that’s able to do the plank and I can’t. How pathetic am I? Well, this morning she sends me a message and says, “Oh, by the way I was talking about a reverse plank position last night.” Whew~! That was a load off my mind because I was REALLY starting to wonder if I was just plain plank challenged! Well, I AM but…  Then I'm wondering... Wait a minute there's a reverse plank?  Maybe I'm focusing on doing the wrong plank!

Sunday afternoon, I’m out with the Popette doing our monthly Barnes & Noble visit. As we are getting settled with coffee in the café area of the store, the Popette talks with a guy nearby. He has three different thick tomes on the table in front of him; one of which is about 4 inches thick. She teases him about cramming for a professorship. He laughs and talks with her for a bit as I pick up our coffee order. The Popette and I start doing our catch up banter and I can see over the Popette's shoulder that Mr. Professorship is eavesdropping on our banter by the smirks and the quiet chuckles.

The Popette gets on the subject of a new poetry writing group that’s she’s been invited to join. It’s pretty prestigious for her to get into. She’s gone a couple of times to it. I ask her what she thought of the group. She comes back with,” They’re a bunch of A$$holes!” I can see Mr. Professorship’s jaw drop.  I chuckle because this is just classic Popette all the way.

I continue on,” So, let me get this straight you’ve gone two times. Did it take you two times to discover that they were A$$holes or is your learning curve getting slower?” I hear the chuckle erupt from Mr. Professorship. “No, no, no… I was just kind of quiet and unsure the first time I went….” I tease her about I could NEVER imagine her as being a quiet wall flower. Mr. Professorship is quietly laughing and shaking his head.

The Popette then goes on to tell of the dynamic of the group and to explain it was really just one overbearing person in the group that was TRULY the A$$hole. If it weren’t for this particularly “unsavory overbearing wench”, it could be an okay group. I can see that Mr. Professorship has forgotten about his tomes completely by this time.  I can see him shaking as he's silently chuckling.

Our lively banter continues on. I ask the Popette about her male companion; a dear sole who spends a great deal of time with her. I would describe him as a steady nice guy who literally worships the ground the Popette walks on but he’s a bit stale like dry toast around the edges. The Popette then goes on to tell how the two of them had a conversation this last week. Her companion was concerned about her dying before he did. The Popette found this very endearing that he didn’t want to live without her. Her companion responded that he was afraid that he was boring her to death.

This cracked me up! Meanwhile, I’m watching Mr. Professorship almost fall of his seat and he was laughing SO hard he looked ready to cry. Just watching Mr. Professorship over the Popette’s shoulder had me cracking up even harder. The Popette continued on with how she was SO surprised by her companion’s “one-liner” which WAS SO out of character that she ended up spitting out her coffee all over the place.

Later, the Popette took off to check out the Barnes & Noble store. A bit after that, Mr. Professorship got up to leave. I smiled at him and stated,” She’s quite the character, isn’t she?” He said,” You are both a pair of characters and you made my afternoon. Thanks!” Then, he left.

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