How I Nearly Lost My Coochie (The Remix)

This is a reprint from my former incarnation, just in case you've been around for a while and thought you were having a case of Deja Vu.

That's right. Coochie. Use your imagination. I abhor "proper" words for those unmentionable areas of the anatomy, I think it sounds perverted. So yeah, I'm posting about the near death experience of my coochie. I worried a bit about people being offended, but I couldn't let this pass without sharing it. Not my coochie, but the story. I think maybe all of the testicle talk on t.v. from the tapes of Craig Ferguson over breakfast every morning is adversely affecting my morals.

The telling of this story requires a little background. Lets rewind back to a couple of weeks ago, shall we? Lulu came bopping into my little corner of hell, the dreaded cubicle, all smiles and grinning. "I have found JUST the man for you!!! He's at the front desk applying for a job. I went to school with him, so he's the right age and I just asked if he was still single and he said he was!!!"

To this I replied, "No."

"Oh COME ON.. he'd be perfect!! He's got his own computer graphics company, so he's got his own business, he's not BAD looking and he's really funny!!"

"Back up... he's got his own company, but he's up here APPLYING for a JOB, HELLO???"

"Well, to be honest, I don't really remember him ever having an actual job anywhere. He says he's an "entrepreneur" but I've always just figured he was too triflin' to work."

I just glared at her while she giggled. Then I said, "The last time you tried to hook me up with someone, if I remember correctly, you began by saying, 'I wouldn't call him slow exactly, I mean, it's not like he had to take special classes or gets a check or anything.' I think I'll just hold out for that strapping dude to ride up on his great white steed, thank you very much."

Yeah...that last one still drives by my trailer daily in his pick up truck with his three heathern youngins, all under 10 years old. I can just imagine him saying, "Look over yonder, someday that thar's gonna be yer new maw!!" He even went up to where Ma was working at the time to ask her if I was "courtable" or if I was "one of them Lebanese wimmen's what don't take to the menfolk." But he's got nothing to do with this story.. so..

About a week passed after me and Lulu's conversation and as I made my way up the hall towards the fax machine one day, I saw a man waiting to talk to the personnel manager. I stopped at Lulu's office (she has an actual office, with a door, walls and windows, not fair) and peeked in. "There's some guy up front who looks JUST like Stephen King!!" Well, Lulu was beside herself. She's read every Stephen King novel at least twice and watches every one of those "made for t.v." movies they do based on the books. She started to get up and come look then she stopped. Then.. she smiled.

"Let me go look," she said as she made her way quickly out of her office and down the hall. I just sat in her spare chair and made myself comfortable. Then, here she came flying back in there, trying to contain the laughter.

"WHAT??" I asked.

"Thats yer man!!! They must be hiring him. I never really thought about it.. but he DOES look like Stephen King!!"

"I really don't like you right now," I quipped. Of course, she was too busy laughing and wiping away the tears of joy from her eyes to care.

There's one other person, another potential suitor, if you will, who is important to the story. We'll call him Jasper (no reason, other than he kinda looks like a Jasper.) Jasper's wife passed away several years ago leaving him to raise his sons alone. He's always been a bit overly friendly with me around the office, but there was always something about him that put me off. He'll come in and look at the pictures I have hanging on the wall from my trip to Canada, he always asks me where I took them, I always tell him, he always tells me he'd like to go there on vacation and wouldn't I like to go, then suggesting that we go together because he'd love for me to show him around. I always blow him off, but he's a trooper!! Jasper is good buddies with a certain male in my family (related by marriage only) and they often go hunting together, swapping tales of this and that. This particular male family member can NOT keep his mouth shut about anything and after one of their hunting trips a few years ago, he circulated a story that Jasper had told him about this woman he'd dated that enjoyed erm.. the rough stuff. Ya know, curse me, beat me, make me feel cheap. Apparently, during a particularly um.. active sexual encounter, the two of them, being overcome with passion, got a little carried away, which resulted in Jasper giving her a right hook to the jaw and knocking out one of her teeth. He said it was the best sex he'd ever had.

Really.. it's OKAY that I'm single.

Anyway, so when Jasper comes to my office and asks me to print his monthly reports for him, then stands behind me and rubs the back of my neck, I half expect to get cold cocked upside the head at any moment. Welcome to the single life of the chubby girl.

Phew!! That's a lot of background for one little story, but it'll be worth it. Maybe. I hope. We'll see...

Last Friday, Jasper appeared in my office and laid some papers in my tray, winked and went on. I was afraid to look. It turns out, he was teaching the class I'd been scheduled to participate in today. He'd left me a four page syllabus for a one hour class on how to read blueprints. This was not looking promising at all. I had tried to get out of it, but apparently that entire year that I suffered through drafting classes back in high school meant nothing to these people. Oh don't look at me that way, I didn't want to take drafting in high school. I had signed up for commercial art but it was full and they stuck me in drafting. I didn't even know what the hell drafting was back then.

So today, promptly at 2:30, the boss, Babs and I headed back to the training room for our class. We went in and there was Jasper, with that come hither look in his eye when he saw me. Argh. There were three seats left, Babs getting the only good one, leaving the boss and I to sit at opposite ends of the table that Japser's teaching materials were sitting on. As it ended up, I had to sit six inches from the white board on it's tripod, between Jasper and.. yeah, you guessed it.. Stephenfreakin King. I began questioning my decision this morning to fix my hair and pile on extra makeup. I seriously regretted that little spritz of Haiku perfume I'd applied to my neck. Thank Gawd I'm a heifer. I'm just sayin.

What followed were yawn inducing explanations of symbols and dotted lines versus solid lines.. you get the idea. Jasper struggled with the white board. It teetered on it's tripod, threatening to come crashing to the floor every time he tried to wipe it off. Keep in mind, I'm about 5'7" and I was sitting directly in front of the board, so I felt obligated to slink down in my chair, feet propped up on the legs of the folding table, looking very carefree and attractively disinterested in the whole affair, I'm sure. I was only trying to keep my freshly colored and cropped crowning glory from blocking anyone's view. Honest.

As I answered Jasper's questions, he seemed a little too pleased with my knowledge of blueprints. He'd grin at me with a twinkle in his eye each time. I decided I'd be better off playing dumb, but the damage was done. As he wiped the white board roughly, irritated at his inability to get it cleaned off, he got a little too rough with it. He has a history of such things ya know. That's when it happened. The tripod beneath the white board had become unstable. With one swipe, Jasper managed to flip the 4' x 3' board off it's base, flipping it over and airborne at such an angle as if its metal trimmed corner were going to pierce me directly in the coochie !!!! In my sprawled out position, there was no way to protect my precious nether regions from impending doom and I nearly broke my leg trying to get my foot unhooked from the legs of the table, scrambling to protect myself, as the whole gathering of hillbillies let out a collective, "WHOA THERE!!!" which, for you fine folks of the northern persuasion or from far off lands, is hillbilly for "GIT OUT OF THE WAY, QUICK!!!

Stephenfreakin' King's hands were doing what looked like a juggling act, with nothing to juggle, as if he wanted to come to my rescue and catch something, be it the board, the table which I had nearly flipped on it's end, my leg or perhaps even my coochie itself. His eyes were as big as semi-tires, there was a lot of scrambling about, crap falling and chairs scraping. I really can't explain how the entire affair didn't end with at least a trip to the emergency room. I bet they never had anyone show up with a white board impaled in their crotch before.

When it was all over, people were fanning themselves, Jasper was perspiring greatly upon his balding head, trying to replace the board with shaking hands. Bossman just sat there across the table from me, giving me that "My GAWD I can't take you anywhere" look. Babs looked like she needed a pill. Stephenfreakin' King never uttered another word. He may never speak again. I think he was traumatized by the whole ordeal.

At the end of the class, Jasper gave me a wink and a sly grin as I handed in my paper. Yes, they made us take a test afterwards. Of course I had to tell "L" all about it when I got back to the office. There were tears, snorts and I think some snot going on from all the laughing. For the remainder of the day, each time I passed her door I'd stop and get her attention and silently mouth the words, "They tried to kill my coochie!!" while motioning towards the general area of my nether regions. Some days, making her laugh is the only thing that gets me through.

Ya'll be blessed. And if you have to go to any blueprint classes, wear a cup or something.