of trampolines and white trash | Mental Poo

Monday, March 23, 2015

of trampolines and white trash

We took the kids to an indoor trampoline park the other day.

If you've never heard of these, they are basically ginormous places where you spend $15 per kid to have them jump on trampolines for an hour and exhaust themselves to they can fall asleep around 6 pm.


We arrived at the trampoline place and found it packed. We all took our coats off and the kids took their shoes off and we promptly claimed a table by piling everything up on and under it.

Off the kids went.

The wife and I followed to go watch. She watched the kids while I watched all the moms jumping around with their own.

Boobs are funny when they flippity flop.

There was an area where the kids were able to joust "American Gladiator" style by standing on a beam over a foam pit and try to bash the other kid off using giant foam Q-tips. This was awesome, although I did get reprimanded by the attendant for yelling "NO MERCY" and "HEAD SHOT! GO FOR THE HEAD!" about 200 times.

We're a competitive family.

The wife and I decided to go sit down because at our age standing up for longer than 3 minutes at a time is probably unhealthy.

I'm not a doctor.

As we approached the table, we noticed two women had commandeered it. They were sitting in front of our coats and on the bench over all the shoes. My wife, mind you, had tested and passed for her green belt just the day before and was pretty sore. I was also pretty sore because of the 'no sex before a fight rule' and now I was looking at a good few days of no-nookie because she could barely move. My balls were killing me at this point.

"This is our stuff," my wife said to the women.

"This is ours," she said, pointing at OUR OWN COATS.

"Um...no," my wife continued. "These are our coats."

"Well, ours are over there," the woman said, pointing to coats on the other side of the table on the bench seat. "You can sit there."

"I think I'll sit here," and then my wife sat down.

Let me rephrase this.


It was at this point that the woman seated right next to my wife began using words as "rude," and "bitch" and then - the kicker - "white trash."

My wife looked at me, fresh from her Kenpo test and said, "white trash?"

Uh oh.

The verbal argument that ensued between the two of them escalated when the OTHER woman started pointing at my wife.

"Why would you call me 'white trash,'" my wife asked. "You don't even KNOW ME."

"I know you're rude. I'm calling the cops."

This was getting good. Two women going at it. In my silence, I was trying to hide, like, the biggest boner.

After a minute of the back-and-forth, I could hold my silence no longer.

"White trash?" I said. "Really?"

I said this, looking at the two women, both in black jeans with greasy curly hair. They had really thick Boston accents (I have one, too) which didn't make their case any better.

"What are you?" one of the women said, "A midget?"

"I prefer dwarf."

"Go away, shrimp," the first woman said.

"I won't take insults from someone with Jeri-Curl hair."

"WHAT?" she said...and then...

"That's disriminitative. Jeri curl."



I looked at her and crouched down to her seated level.

"Discriminitative isn't even a word."

My wife, at this point, got up and grabbed everything to move as the first woman pretend-called the police.

"Come on," my wife said.

"I can't. I'm being discriminitative. I have to find out what this means first."

But, my wife was right. We should probably move. I always hate being accused of discriminitative verbostitatiousness.

On the bright side, no one was killed. My wife didn't end up in jail.

And the kids were all asleep by 6 PM.

Like I said, so worth it.


Vicky said...

You could have said "Well at least this white trash is a published author" and flounced off while giving her the finger LOL

Vinny C said...

My wife isn't the "walk away" type. If we were in that situation, she would have responded... using very, very big words. She's a law student. She knows a lot of them. Lucky for me I'm better with words or I wouldn't stand a chance (NOTE: I like to fool myself & think I stand a chance). One time, her coworkers in the bank had to go online & Google what she said to them (true story).

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