The Funeral Director and the Butt Doctor, Part 1
One night a friend and I decide to attend a "networking" event. Neither one of us had high hopes for this event, as typically networking events are super lame and no one ever shows up.
Our evening started out with a very interesting taxi ride, where the taxi driver was trying to tell us that canines weren't carnivores because the name canine was a derivative of "canivorus", which means they only eat vegetables.
Um. Right. Can you just drop us at the corner?
As we enter the networking party, we were happily surprised that the place was packed. Once we checked in, we were told to go to the name tag table to get our name tags. To our delight the name badges were not pre-made.
These name tags however were a bit different. They were color coded by job type (health, business, sales, etc.) and listed on the tags were not only your name but your job title or category.
My friend and I have a quick huddle and decide that we need to change our professions. Marketing just didn't seem sexy enough, or maybe because we are in marketing we had to be creative.
I decided my chosen profession was a funeral director and my friend decided she wanted to be a butt doctor. Now, let me be clear, not a proctologist but a plastic surgeon that specialized in butt implants.
We walk up to the name badge table and there are two lovely girls waiting to write out our name badges for us. Evidently guests cannot be trusted with the sharpies.
My girl leans in and asks me what my job is so she can choose the appropriate color name badge. When I lean in and tell her I'm a funeral director, she does a double take and asks me "really?" and I say with a straight face "yes". "Alright, I guess that would be health?", "sure" I say.
She then writes out my name and my title on the name badge. As she's handing me my tag, she says, "You must have a really big heart, that is so great of you."
I say thank you and am barely able to contain my giggles.
My friend is next to me having a similar conversation with the other lovely girl who is writting out her name badge. I hear her explaining that she's not a proctologist (and there is a hand gesture that goes with her explanation) but that she's a plastic surgeon, but she wants her name badge to read "Butt Doctor".
Once we don our new name badges we start to work the room. Of course, because this is a networking (a.k.a a pick-up) party, everyone is checking out everyone else's name badges to score someone that is gainfully employed.
Every guy that chatted us up asked me if I was really a funeral director. They all even asked with a glint in their eye and a giggle in their question. When I answered "Yes, I really am", they really wanted to laugh and make fun of me, but there was that chance that I was REALLY a funeral director, so trying not to offend me they would engage me in a interrogation.
"Which funeral home do you work at?"
"Which location?"
"What exactly do you do?"
I of course made up all those answers and many people today I'm sure still believe that I'm a funeral director.
As part of my friend's routine, as she was explaining that she was a plastic surgeon specializing in butt implants, she would point at me and say, "that's how we became friends, I did her butt".
I would then turn around and shake my booty while she explained that I got the "Kardashian" butt implants, where as the JLo booty was so last year.
One guy was a total buzz kill and was flexing his muscle by really giving my friend the third degree, "So tell me then, what is your favorite topical anesthesia?"
Um. Ambesol?
Whatever dude. He had some kind of cosmetics line (read snake oil) that he was peddling. We tried to shake him but he kept following us around like my friend was the pied piper.
Most people were really impressed at how real my butt implants looked. I imagine in the same way that people can't believe that Kim Kardashian's butt is real.
We played this routine over and over and it never got old. I think I actually pulled a muscle I was laughing so hard.
The moral to this story? Honesty may be the best policy, but isn't as funny.
Our evening started out with a very interesting taxi ride, where the taxi driver was trying to tell us that canines weren't carnivores because the name canine was a derivative of "canivorus", which means they only eat vegetables.
Um. Right. Can you just drop us at the corner?
As we enter the networking party, we were happily surprised that the place was packed. Once we checked in, we were told to go to the name tag table to get our name tags. To our delight the name badges were not pre-made.
These name tags however were a bit different. They were color coded by job type (health, business, sales, etc.) and listed on the tags were not only your name but your job title or category.
My friend and I have a quick huddle and decide that we need to change our professions. Marketing just didn't seem sexy enough, or maybe because we are in marketing we had to be creative.
I decided my chosen profession was a funeral director and my friend decided she wanted to be a butt doctor. Now, let me be clear, not a proctologist but a plastic surgeon that specialized in butt implants.
We walk up to the name badge table and there are two lovely girls waiting to write out our name badges for us. Evidently guests cannot be trusted with the sharpies.
My girl leans in and asks me what my job is so she can choose the appropriate color name badge. When I lean in and tell her I'm a funeral director, she does a double take and asks me "really?" and I say with a straight face "yes". "Alright, I guess that would be health?", "sure" I say.
She then writes out my name and my title on the name badge. As she's handing me my tag, she says, "You must have a really big heart, that is so great of you."
I say thank you and am barely able to contain my giggles.
My friend is next to me having a similar conversation with the other lovely girl who is writting out her name badge. I hear her explaining that she's not a proctologist (and there is a hand gesture that goes with her explanation) but that she's a plastic surgeon, but she wants her name badge to read "Butt Doctor".
Once we don our new name badges we start to work the room. Of course, because this is a networking (a.k.a a pick-up) party, everyone is checking out everyone else's name badges to score someone that is gainfully employed.
Every guy that chatted us up asked me if I was really a funeral director. They all even asked with a glint in their eye and a giggle in their question. When I answered "Yes, I really am", they really wanted to laugh and make fun of me, but there was that chance that I was REALLY a funeral director, so trying not to offend me they would engage me in a interrogation.
"Which funeral home do you work at?"
"Which location?"
"What exactly do you do?"
I of course made up all those answers and many people today I'm sure still believe that I'm a funeral director.
As part of my friend's routine, as she was explaining that she was a plastic surgeon specializing in butt implants, she would point at me and say, "that's how we became friends, I did her butt".
I would then turn around and shake my booty while she explained that I got the "Kardashian" butt implants, where as the JLo booty was so last year.
One guy was a total buzz kill and was flexing his muscle by really giving my friend the third degree, "So tell me then, what is your favorite topical anesthesia?"
Um. Ambesol?
Whatever dude. He had some kind of cosmetics line (read snake oil) that he was peddling. We tried to shake him but he kept following us around like my friend was the pied piper.
Most people were really impressed at how real my butt implants looked. I imagine in the same way that people can't believe that Kim Kardashian's butt is real.
We played this routine over and over and it never got old. I think I actually pulled a muscle I was laughing so hard.
The moral to this story? Honesty may be the best policy, but isn't as funny.
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