By BOB WIRE
Come on, you know you’ve done it: opened your big ol’ yap and inserted your foot, shoe and all, so deep that you had shoelace in your stool for a week. Who among us has not said something extremely inappropriate in a setting full of horrified witnesses? I should have a mantel full of trophies for that shit. But, hey, you have to make your own luck.
For example, if you happen to run into a crestfallen St. Louis Cardinals fan this weekend, it’s probably not a good time for this tidbit: “Hey, cheer up! Did you know that across the river from Gateway Arch, in East St. Louis, they’re working on building an 800-foot-tall statue of a croquet player? It’ll be awesome!”
Or if you’re a baseball fan yourself, and you’re lucky enough to attend a World Series game in San Francisco next week, I would hold off on this conversational gambit with the fan sitting next to you: “Hey, nice town you got here. Where do you keep the whores?”
I once had a friend, a painfully introverted fellow, who couldn’t stand the idea of a bunch of strange kids coming to his house on Halloween, ringing the doorbell and invading the personal space of his home, his sanctum. “I got this figured out,” he told me. “I’ll just drive around to a few neighborhoods in my van and hand out candy to the kids I see on the street. Why hasn’t anyone thought of this before? Hey, it’s going to be a cold night – can I borrow your ski mask?”
People generally don’t welcome fashion advice from strangers. Especially this: “Wow, nice yoga pants! Hey, you should get that wart looked at. Might be herpes.”
Sometimes you’re just trying to be helpful, and you step in it big time. Say you’re pushing your cart down the condiment aisle at the grocery store, and a robust woman asks you if you can reach that bottle of salad dressing on the top shelf. Don’t say this: “Here you go. I thought you would probably want the low-fat version.”
I’m only trying to help.
You visit a friend in the cancer ward at the hospital, and he says he’s impressed by the fact that you got all cleaned up and put on your finest clothes. “Oh, dude,” you say, “I was going to go clubbing. When you said you had the Big C, I thought you meant cocaine.”
On a jam-packed subway, you’re hanging on to a strap and you say to the guy pressed up against you, “I am not happy to be in the middle of this sardine can. But if I were, you’d be the first to know it.”
Christmas is, for some reason, a major minefield for inappropriate utterances. There are plenty of entertaining but normal reactions, like when one of your kids says, “Good one, dad! Fake dog poop under the tree! Hey, wait a second…eww.” But if this one gets captured on video, it will deepen an emotional scar forever: “Damn it! I told you to cut air holes in the box, honey!”
You’d better hope the coffee shop isn’t very crowded when you let this slip one morning: “Room for cream? No. But I’ll need room for vodka.”
Speaking of drinking, here’s my personal favorite, said after a friend lets me taste her beer at the bar. I make sure she’s had a sip afterwards, then I say, “That is really tasty. Whoa, it really burns my cold sore.” Feel free to use this gag liberally.
I actually overheard this one at a bullfight, after an injured matador had been rescued from the arena, and the bull finally killed in the estocada ritual. “Well, damn, no wonder beef is so expensive. That’s quite the rigmarole.”
Check out all of Bob Wire’s posts in his blog archive.
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Think of it as Gonzo meets Hee Haw: Missoula honky tonker Bob Wire holds forth on a unique life filled with music, parenthood, drinking, sports, working, marriage, drinking, and just navigating the twisted wreckage of American culture. Plus occasional grooming tips. Like the best humor, it’s not for everyone. Sometimes silly, sometimes surreal, sometimes savage, Bob Wire demands that you possess a good sense of humor and an open mind.
Bob Wire has written more than 500 humor columns for a regional website over the last five years, and his writing has appeared in the Missoulian, the Missoula Independent, Montana Magazine, and his own Bob Wire Has a Point Blog. He is a prolific songwriter, and has recorded three CDs of original material with his Montana band, the Magnificent Bastards. His previous band, the Fencemenders, was a popular fixture at area clubs. They were voted Best Local Band twice by the Missoula Independent readers poll. Bob was voted the Trail 103.3/Missoulian Entertainer of the Year in 2007.
You can hear his music on his website, or download it at iTunes, Amazon, and other online music providers. Follow @Bob_Wire on Twitter.
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