So I have this chick over for an afternoon of good clean, freaky deaky fun. After the festivities we split an energy drink. Sometime after we finished it I recalled a banana split in the freezer from the night before.
The following is a true and correct statement of the conversation that followed my recall of that frozen treat.
Me: You want to have a banana split?
She: Uhmmm. I don't know- maybe. What is that?! Is it something really freaky?!
Me: Mmmmm. Uh, it is 3 scoops of ice cream covered in fudge with nuts and whipped cream and cherries on top. They cut a banana long ways- you know- split it and place it to each side of the ice cream. You know----- a banana split...
She burst out laughing so hard and so long she became literally breathless and could barely speak. When she composed herself enough to get out a semi coherent sentence she said, Omigosh- I thought you meant some crazy sex act called a banana split!
It was hilarious.
Maybe you had to be there.
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1 comment:
My first job with a paycheck - Braum's Store #69 (don't read anything into that). As a young pup, a few or many decades ago, I was an artiste at making excellentilicious and visually stunning banana splits, with either the standard van/straw/choc dips, or the customer's choice of custom flavors. Most nights I went home with sticky ice cream residue up to my elbows from dipping the frozen goodness for all manner of tasty treats. Fun times.
And no freaky sex. Although it was considered acceptable to ask a lovely young lass for assistance while stocking the freezer room (being chivalrous and stuff, I always offered such lassies my toasty down jacket).
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