Petesophizing...

If I'm out to dinner with a snobby "foodie" I have a little maneuver I pull which is to interrupt his monologue with "Have you been to Squatty Roo's yet? Oh, it's terrific. Jazz on Tuesdays and 25 cent oysters I don't even know what days -- it seems like every day." It's very effective this far inland. I've gone so far as having to make up a fake address. If someone ever gets back to me complaining they haven't been able to find "Squatty's" I'm going to say, "I think it's closed because of an EEOC investigation. They were hiring only big breasted women between the ages of 18 and 25."

Among my dinner companions last night was an employee of a major Defense Department contractor. I knew she was going to be there and I was prepared for her. About the Iraq war I was going to say:

I'm interested in the "enabling" idea. And, applying that on a broader scale, I have more of a problem with the International Red Cross and my beloved Catholic Bishops, than with the defense industry.

This morning I'm not even sure what that means, but I'm sure it's clever and somehow would have let us all off the hook.

When she finally warmed up to me -- incidentally, mentioning I'm the co-founder of Adult Children Of Acoholics Who Still Want To Drink (ACOAWSWTD) is a real winner conversationally -- she said, "No matter what you think about the war, fighter jets are really cool, aren't they?"

Speaking then as an eight-year-old with fingers matted by model airplane glue -- I had nothing. I sought refuge in some buttery lobster mashed.