A good friend of mine just moved back from China. There was a happy hour for her at Biddy's on Monday to celebrate her birthday and welcome her back. I'd met some of her friends before, but there were a lot of people I didn't know.
So I was talking to a guy who asked what I do for work. As one does.
I started describing my job, and he noted that I didn't sound terribly passionate about it.
And so I said, "It's not my passion. It pays my mortgage. And gives me time to do things I love."
"What's something you do that you love?"
"I dye fabric and make things."
He flared his nostrils slightly. "Wow! That's. . .Well. Unusual."
"Well, yeah. I've never met anyone that does that."
"Oh. Well. Maybe that's because you work in finance."
"Dead or alive?"
"And then what do you do with them?"
I was so confused. At this point, another guy joined the conversation.
He looked at me and said, "What exactly do you do that's so unusual?"
"She dyes rabbits!"
The second guy and I both said, "Rabbits?"
I wish I'd been quick enough to just run with it, but I said, "Not rabbits! Fabric!"
"Ohhh. Fabric! I was wondering. . ."
"You were wondering if I dye live or dead rabbits?"
"Well. . ."
"And so what if I'd said. 'Live! And then I cut off their feet to sell for good luck. But they make these really good prosthetic ones, so in the end the bunnies walk just fine.' What if I'd said that?"
Honestly, I really thought that would shock him. But no.
"Then I'd have said, 'Prosthetic rabbit feet! That would be kind of like Neuticles!'"
"You know Neuticles?" This post by Dooce is the only reason I'd ever heard of them.
The second guy said, "What are Neuticles?"
"They're prosthetic testicles for pets."
"You're kidding, right? What does that mean?"
The first guy laughed. "You know, fake balls for your dog, man."
"But, why? How?"
"Well,' I said, "I think that when they suck the dog's testicles out, then they stick these little fake balls in that little ball bag, and then your dog walks around thinking he has some."
He bent over a little with a pained expression and backed away. Kind of like I'd tried to squeeze out his balls and replace them. Men are really sensitive about this kind of thing.
"Who are you? How do you people know this stuff?"
"I dunno. We just met."