Retarded people aren't really that funny.

(September 15, 2006)

So, two weeks ago at McClafferty's, Meg and I were calmly sipping and waiting for the post-game traffic to subside when, four or five hours later, this Dude approaches, and asks if we'd like to play pool. Then we said no, because we're not big joiners, and the Dude considered this an invitation to sit with us and share a joke he heard. Here it is. Ready? Seriously, here it is. No, really:

"So there's this chair, right? ... And the chair's wearing shoes, ok? ... And the chair walks down the street ..."

That's the whole thing. I'm positive, because he told it two times after that for good measure. After the first telling, Meg and I realized that this Dude was not only drunk, but also retarded. Around the third telling of the joke, his retarded friend came over, and in the spirit of celebration after the WVU win, he put on Meg's hat, swayed a little bit, shared his sunglasses with all of us, danced a lot on the booth and on the table, and tried to rip the lamp out of the wall a few times. So, Meg and I were trapped in the booth and, meanwhile, a non-retarded guy, who I guess was sort of in charge, came over and hung around the end of the table, just watching indifferently.

Then, a beacon of hope, Matt and his 70+ IQ materialized and the retarded comedian got up. I'm not proud, but I saw the opportunity and I took it -- I left Meg trapped in the booth.

So, milling along the periphery, I'm explaining to the Materializer that no, these are not our friends, when I hear Meg, all gruff-like, say "Move. Get up!" Because apparently Meg and the retarded comedian had the following exchange:

RC: "Have you ever been raped before?"
Meg: "No."
RC: "Why not?"

And then, while leaning forward and shaking his fist, he promised to remedy the situation himself.

RC: "I will rape you."

So, I think I'll be sticking to Vice Versa. I really, really love Vice Versa. Really. Good weird things happen there. I was working on a list of top 10 funny / bizarre things I've overheard in the bathroom, but I'm afraid no one will ever be able to top the pregnant woman who, judging by her mullet, and the fact that she couldn't understand why everyone kept giving her weird looks in a smoky, pulsating gay bar, was clearly incapable of irony. She casually responded to someone's congratulations with, "Thanks. This'll be my first. I had two miscarriages because my boyfriend pushed me down the stairs."