Ultra Relationship News – No. 7 – “Trouser Snakes”

[Think of me as your “fly on the wall.” I buzz around coffeehouses and breakfast nooks listening to all you amazing (and tired) ultra-long-distance runners COMPLAIN—after finishing your long runs on weekend mornings—about stuff… like flies. Think of me also as having a fly-sized tape recorder. Hmmm… do they still even make “tape recorders”? Anyway, happy Bad Joke Friday, everyone!!!]

ULTRA RELATIONSHIP NEWS

Number 7, “Trouser Snakes”

by Yours Troubly
(but with somewhat necessarily changed language,
due to polite society)

[Facial Rachel and The Babe, having just recently met, are enjoying their fave beverages in the closest coffeehouse (which turns out to be Cuban) to Chicago’s famed Lakefront running path—after having run 20 miles together.]

RACHEL: I hate men.

BABE: No you don’t.

RACHEL: Yes, I do!

BABE: Why? Did some douche-bag do you wrong?

RACHEL: Do you know that “Eddie” character?

BABE: I don’t, actually. But I may have once known a friend of his.

RACHEL: Who?

BABE: His name’s Ray. But his peeps call him “Strawman.”

RACHEL: Yes, him and Eddie are friends.

BABE: So I’m told.

RACHEL: THEY’RE MATHERFLOCKERS!!!

BABE: (gags, then coughs—splattering her coffee) Wha… what did you say?

RACHEL: Matherflockers! And I don’t care WHO hears me!

BABE: (furtively looking around) Um… maybe… tone it down?

RACHEL: OK, douche-bags then.

BABE: OK, I know why I say that, but what did they do to you?

RACHEL: (sniffs back a tear) Eddie quit me! He walked out and called me “evil.”

BABE: Why?

RACHEL: He accused me of cheating!

BABE: On him?

RACHEL: No. At some ultra we both were at.

BABE: Which one?

RACHEL: You won’t know it.

BABE: Try me.

RACHEL: It was called the “I’D RATHER BE BIKING—CENTURY.”

BABE: A bike race?

RACHEL: No. It was an ultrarunning race on a bike path. It went a hundred miles straight through. Point to point.

BABE: And you were running?

RACHEL: Volunteering.

BABE: So, how is that “cheating”?

RACHEL: Volunteers weren’t supposed to run.

BABE: And you ran anyway.

RACHEL: Some poor old guy came along… looking horrible. So I went with him to help him make his goal and get to the finish.

BABE: Which he couldn’t do on his own?

RACHEL: He was gonna drop! Right there at our aid station!

BABE: Where was your aid station?

RACHEL: At fifty miles.

BABE: So… you went with him. To help. (pause) Isn’t that what volunteers do? Help runners?

RACHEL: It’s against the rules.

BABE: To help people.

RACHEL: No, to run with them!

BABE: Well, that sounds pretty flocked-up to me.

RACHEL: Me too!

BABE: You’re there to help. You volunteered to help. And so this Eddie walks out on you for helping?

RACHEL: It was against the rules! Eddie said what I did was unfair to all the other runners that had no helpers.

BABE: How many other runners were there?

RACHEL: A lot!

BABE: OK, so where was this old guy compared to all them?

RACHEL: He was at the back of the pack. He just barely made the cut-off. We were about to close down the aid station anyway.

BABE: Oh. Well then…

RACHEL: That’s what I said!

BABE: Then he’s a matherflocker!

RACHEL: (pause) Who?

BABE: Eddie! Who’d you think?

RACHEL: I was hoping you didn’t mean the old guy. I totally believe that I was the only reason he got to the finish.

BABE: You probably were. (pauses, drinks, eyes her running outfit) Especially in THAT!

RACHEL: In what?

BABE: That sexy pink outfit.

RACHEL: It was nighttime! It was cold! I was wearing three layers and a jacket!

BABE: All the same. Men have a way of peering… underneath.

RACHEL: Eddie SAW underneath… lots of times!

BABE: And he liked what he saw!

RACHEL: (sniffs) Yes. He always told me so.

BABE: Men. They’re such snakes.

RACHEL: Yes.

BABE: His pal that Strawman was, for sure!

RACHEL: (pause) I actually have one.

BABE: A man? A different one??

RACHEL: No, a snake.

BABE: You’re kidding me!

RACHEL: My pet baby python.

BABE: You’re kidding me!

RACHEL: No. He’s cute, and still pretty little.

BABE: HOW little?

RACHEL: I think he’s only about four-and-a-half feet.

BABE: Whoa, honey. That’s four-and-a-half too dam big for me!

RACHEL: He likes to slide around my neck and shoulders. I take him in the bath with me. He likes bubbles. And Epsom Salts.

BABE: How do you know it’s a he?

RACHEL: I don’t. Even the pet store guy wasn’t sure.

BABE: A pet… python… snake. (pause, sips) So what’s his name?

RACHEL: Douche.

BABE: (almost chokes) D… DOUCHE???

RACHEL: Yup. I named him in honor of all men.

BABE: OK then. I guess I won’t be coming over to your apartment any time soon.

RACHEL: Should I be inviting you?

BABE: Well… (smiling sheepishly) that depends…

RACHEL: I don’t know…

BABE: The last time I was anybody’s guest was at that Strawman’s place. Then I saw him naked and ran out of there screaming into the night!

RACHEL: Why?

BABE: I decided I didn’t like the guy. So I used the old standby crack about HIS… um… so-called trouser snake. Little trouser snake.

RACHEL: It was a worm?

BABE: Well, I told him that all the other trousers I knew hid much bigger rattlers.

RACHEL: And he was embarrassed.

BABE: You got it, girl! You should try it sometime.

RACHEL: It’s not likely to be an issue.

BABE: Not likely to “come up” again, huh?

RACHEL: No. I’m all done with men.

BABE: I should probably be, too. But still…

RACHEL: I have my Douche.

BABE: You don’t… seriously… um… get your snake to…

RACHEL: Not head first! But… sometimes my big slidey Douchie…

BABE: Tail first?

RACHEL: Uh-huh.

[Long pause. Rachel closes her eyes, a slight smile appears. The Babe guzzles, and looks around the room with her eyes like saucers.]

BABE: (broaching a completely different subject) Guess what’s happening tonight here in the city?

RACHEL: Lincoln Park Zoo is opening the reptile house? Making a “petting zoo” for all us frustrated young women?

BABE: No. Even better.

RACHEL: What?

BABE: I heard at CrossFit that tonight is the annual “World Naked Bike Ride.”

RACHEL: Now… YOU are kidding ME!

BABE: No! It’s true. Totally “clothing optional.” Just show up in the Loop somewhere beginning around 8 o’clock. You have a bike, don’t you?

RACHEL: Yes.

BABE: And I can see you have a body. A dam awesome bod at that. So? Just bring ‘em both.

RACHEL: Are YOU going to go? Showing off all those muscles?

BABE: I’m thinking about it. How about you? Wanna ride down together?

RACHEL: In the nude???

BABE: Sure!

RACHEL: Oh come on…

BABE: OK. Bring a backpack. We’ll put our clothes in there once we get downtown. I’ll see if I can find out were the start is.

RACHEL: Naked… bike ride… in the City of Chicago…

BABE: Sounds great, doesn’t it?

RACHEL: Yeah. Great.

BABE: Hey! Maybe we’ll see some four-foot snakes… (smiles) …outside of their trousers!

RACHEL: Maybe… but maybe I’ll just bring my sweet little Douchie.

BABE: Whatever you want, girlfriend. Whatever you want.

[They decide they’ve had enough, then bus their table and leave.]

Happy Long Run Tomorrow, Every Body!

Yours troubly,

Rich Limacher
TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net
(“In the twelfth century we didn’t have snakes. Only dragons. And masked balls featuring dragon costumes—held in lesser castles with no ballroom. And that, of course, is how it all got started. Certain knights wouldn’t rescue the damsels; instead, they would simply put the drag-on with no ball room and BECOME the damsels.”)

Yankee Folly of the Day:
Hear me, hear me, ye fellowes of mine: Women DON’T actually need us anymore. Did you ever stop and think about THAT?