Jack Has Always Been a Giver...

I recently learned that my good friend Bill’s little sister is expecting quadruplets. That’s FOUR babies at once – and with no fertility assistance whatsoever. Apparently Bill’s sister is just naturally outrageously fertile. Anyway, as Jack and I were driving to visit his parents the other day, I mentioned this news.

“Quadruplets….that’s FOUR, right?”

“Yep,” I confirmed.

“Wow, that’s a lot….I mean, what if they didn’t want a family that big?”

“Um…too bad, I guess? I mean, it’s not like they used fertility treatments or anything. Maybe they were just meant to have a big family?”

Jack really hadn’t even been listening. He just sort of picked up where he left off – “…like, do they have to have them all? Or could they maybe have them all and then pick the 2 they wanted and give the others away?”

“WHAT? Give away two of your babies?? And keep two?? How would you decide which ones to keep??”

"I’d give away the girls, and keep the boys. That's what I'd do."

Of course at this point I was livid, because whenever Jack and I discuss how scary it will be to someday raise children, he always says he hopes he only has boys, because raising daughters would be too difficult. Like most men, you see, Jack points to the fact that he “knows what teenage boys think about all the time” - and therefore wouldn’t want his daughters around teenage boys. Best to just GIVE THEM AWAY, I guess?

As soon as we got to Jack’s parents’ house, I had to tell them this story – that Jack planned to give away the girls if he ever had quadruplets. He got a good talking-to about that.

I think my work here is done.

Oh, and the illustration above? That’s me crying because Jack is FORCING me to give away my daughters, whilst happily clutching his precious sons. RUDE!

Free Passes

Jack is obsessed with asking me if he can get a "free pass" should he ever find himself alone in a dimly lit room with a hot celebrity. Every time we go to a concert, he asks if I could find a ride home in case he makes it back stage and so-and-so wants to make out with him. These conversations always go the same:

Jack: So later tonight if [Duffy, Kelis, etc] is eyeing me during her set and she gives me the come hither look and then her bodyguard comes and says she wants me to come back stage and then I get back there and she comes on to me, can I make out with her and you won't get angry?

Me: Why would that happen? Isn't she married?

Jack: But what if it does happen? Can I have a free pass?

Me: Well, I don't think it's going to happen.

Jack: Are you saying that [Duffy, Kelis, etc] won't find me attractive? Is that what you're saying?

Me: No, of course she would, but I just think it's pretty unlikely that she's going to get her bodyguard to fetch you so that she can have a night of passion with you.

Jack: Well if you think it's so unlikely you should just say yes.

Me: But what if it does happen? I mean, if you're backstage making out with [Duffy, Kelis, etc] do I have permission to get a ride home from someone else at the concert? Like a hot dude?

Jack: You only get free passes with famous people.

Apparently there are a lot of rules about this "free pass" business.

Anyway, the other night I get a text message that he's been invited to a Neko Case concert. Earlier he had texted me that in addition to being a singer, Neko is also an animal rights activist, something he knows is near & dear to my heart. His follow up text read: "Do I have a pass with Neko? Her voice is smoother than blood orange sorbet."

"If she's into animals, sure."

What I meant by that is that any woman who's into protecting animals is okay by me....but I guess that didn't come across in my text, because this is what I got back: "Wait, did you just call me an animal?"

Woops.

Jack's Two Cents

What Jill fails to mention is that if she happened to find herself in a dimly lit room with Robert Downey Jr. or Chris Martin, she wouldn’t even have the decency to request a free pass. It’d be on like Donkey Kong, with no courtesy text messages preceding her rendezvous. Now that I think about it, the same would probably be true even if it was just Twitch from So You Think You Can Dance?

Take Two: Amongst Friends

Jill's Take

Recently Jack and I were discussing whether or not it would be okay if his friend gave me a professional massage. His friend is only a professional massage therapist in this hypothetical situation, mind you, but somehow this still came up as a reasonable thing to discuss.

My feeling was that it would be awkward and, well, inappropriate. I've had enough professional massages to know that there is always a certain level of nudity involved, and, if you play your cards right, some making out. Seems to me that that wouldn't be appropriate considering the nature of my relationship with Jack (acquaintances?). What's more is that I don't think I'd want his friend to give me a massage (no offense, buddy). Wouldn't it just be weird?

"Not even if it were free?" Jack asked.

"No, I don't think so. I don't want him to see me mostly naked. Wouldn't you be uncomfortable with that?"

"What if he were the best massage therapist in the country?"

"I'd see the 2nd best I guess."

Then it became a challenge for Jack--under what circumstances would I let his friend see me mostly naked? The conversation jumped from the friend being the #1 massage therapist in the country to the #1 gynecologist in the country. And suddenly I had a major problem with my vagina. Great, now I'm dying of a vagina disease in this hypothetical situation! JUST GREAT.

At any rate, am I a prude or is Jack trying to hook me up with his friend?

Jack's Take

Is it just me, or has Jill watched one too many late-night movies on Cinemax? I mean, seriously, what kind of world is she living in? One in which every mundane situation is only a few synthesizer chords away from turning into a steamy baby-making session, apparently.

In reality, here's what happens when Jill gets a massage from a professional masseuse:

• She changes into a robe and lies down on a table
• The masseuse goes about his or her business in a professional (i.e., non-erotic) manner
• 60 minutes later, Jill leaves feeling more relaxed and the masseuse leaves $80 richer

And yet, somehow, here's what happens -- at least in Jill's mind -- when she gets a massage from my friend:

• She changes into a robe and lies down on a table
• Upon entering the room, my homeboy trips on the shag carpet and spills a bottle of hot oil all over Jill
• Rather than simply towel off the excess oil, Jill naturally decides to get butt nekkid and "air dry"
• Overcome by Jill's nekkidness and stunning beauty, my friend ignores the fact that he and I have been BFFs for years and turns into The Ladies Man
• 60 minutes later, Jill leaves with a baby daddy

Umm...right. That sounds quite plausible. I totally get where you're coming from. Not.

You're cute, Jill. But so cute that a good friend of mine wouldn't be able to keep his professional hands off you upon seeing your shoulders exposed? Nobody's that cute.

Oh well...I guess it's a good thing that none of my friends are world-class bikini waxers. Now THAT could potentially be awkward...