Thursday, July 10, 2014


I Got Pinned



















     

     

     Mr. Wonderful and I recently volunteered to participate in an “old codger” survey. The research involves asking people over 65 two-hours worth of multiple choice questions guaranteed to make them feel either blessed or doomed. Mr. Wonderful was alll jacked about the $20 we each would receive for participating. I was fascinated by the pupose and the ultimate results of the study on aging, as I am in total denial of this entire concept. Fortunately, an hour and a half later, we walked out feeling validated and lucky. 

     At the end of the survey, however, there was a picture of a rag doll in a box. The question was, “Who would you like to stick a pin in? Write the person’s name in the box below, and indicate how many pins you would like to insert.” The discussion at dinner was interesting.

Mr. W.:  So how many pins did you put in me?
Queen: Whaaat? I didn’t even put your name in that box. You put MY name in the box?
Mr. W.:  I couldn’t think of anyone else to put in there.
Queen: So how many pins did you stick in me?
Mr.W.: (now beginning to pale and shrink in his chair) Only one. The guy didn’t tell me I could put zero.
Queen: Yeah, right. wtf. I can’t believe you put me in the box.
Mr.W.:  I don’t know anyone I’d want to put a pin in.
Queen:  You know what? I’m going to go home and find my box of pins, and you’d better think about where you’re going to hide.
Mr. W.:  Ah, come on, honey. It was just a test. And the doll in the box needed a thrill.
Queen: Do you remember the word “thrill?” I hope so, because it is now part of your past. You will need to look back as you age and try to remember what the word meant.
Mr. W.:  So who did you pin? Honey? Where are you going? Babe. . . oh shit.