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Lectures That Numb The Mind
2002-07-24 - 7:46 p.m.


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I went to a local bar on Saturday. Actually, I went to a couple, and my dish is rusty.  Next time I will be better prepared.

Anyway, the first bar I stopped at had few patrons in it.

Two barflies at the bar, and a table of three girls dressed mostly in white.

It looked like girls nite out to me.  They were unconcerned about anyone but each other, so I let it slide.  Either that or they were so subtle I never noticed, but I doubt that.

And I sat next to the barflies and ordered a beer.  After much harassment as to why I wouldn't order the twenty-two ounce version, they brought me a twelve-ounce version.

And then one of the barflies started in. 

"You don't know, you don't, but when you get to your mid-thirties, then...THEN you'll know."  He slurred loudly.

"Know what?" I asked.

"Women.  What motivates them."

I stared straight ahead and wondered what about my attire that spoke of a need for advice and help in such a manner from such a person.

Brushing it off, I turned and looked.

"Well, HELL, professor, I'm here!   I'm listening!  Let's have it!"  I said smacking an open palm down on the bar.

The other barfly cackled a dry laugh.  I looked over my shoulder at the girls.  They didn't care.

The talkative barfly didn't miss a beat.

"Its all between their legs!"  He said with a religious fervor.

I said nothing.

"Now look at that group there, all dressed in white."  He continued, over the loud jukebox.

I looked.

"Tomorrow, they'll be knee deep in it.  A woman's cycle is aligned with the moon.  They all go at the same time."

I looked at him.

"The one even has her goddam mud flaps down!"  He said, speaking even louder.

"Mud flaps?"  I said.

"Mud flaps!"  He said, enthusiastically, a zealot trying to convert the unrighteous.

"You don't know what mud flaps are?"  He said, incredulously.

"No, what is this 'mud flap'...phenomenon..." 

"Well,” he said with volume, as if delivering a lecture, "When  its 'that time of the month' and the blood is flowing.  There is a certain SMELL, a certain-"  and here the music died completely and you could hear a pin drop in the place, as he continued at top volume, "a certain MENSTRUAL SMELL from BETWEEN THE LEGS."

I shifted in my seat, hunched over my beer.

"AND," he continued, undeterred by the silence, "THEY TIE THOSE SWEATERS TO THEIR ASS, YA' SEE, TO STOP THE SMELL FROM, FROM, DIFFUSING."

He gestured with both hands as to indicate such diffusion.

Then the music started playing.  I no longer stole glances at the girls.

He continued in a lower tone, “Because these girls are not regular.  They're brand new.  When they get older, and haven't had a man in a long time, and then get one,  they get regular.  Comes out in bucketfuls."

There was a pause in his lecture. 

"Well, I think I'm gonna’ go."  I said, "Thanks for the info."

"Thanks for letting me entertain your ear."  He slurred.

I gracefully made my way to the exit, and left.

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