the smudge

I was out last night with a lady friend who was quite over-active in the neck nibbling department. According to her, I left her with hickeys in the past. She was determined to reciprocate in this area.

Today, the family was meeting at my parent's house for my youngest brothers' birthday. And as we were sitting around the dining room table, it was pointed out that I had a 'smudge' on my neck. At this observation, the whole family needed to investigate further that, yes, it was indeed a smudge. My mother, who was sitting nearby, flew into mother mode...meaning that any smudge needed to be quickly vanquished…because, as everyone knows, rule #471.2 section A in the mothering handbook states that the presence of smudges whether they be on the face, neck, wall, or anywhere else, is a clear indication of poor mothering and could lead to the revoking of a mother’s mothering license.

It was soon established, however, that this was clearly not a smudge and was apparently some type of bruise. This led to a prompt inquiry as to how this bruise came to be.

"See," I explained, "I was at this bar last night, and it was really crowded...which is surprising, because generally this bar isn't one of the 'hot' spots in town. I tried to get up to the bar to get a drink but there was just too many people. I heard someone mention that there was a Gun Expo going on at a nearby convention center and being that I'm generally uneasy around gun fanatics who are also alcohol fanatics, I thought it would be best to not push my way through. So I circled around back near where the wait staff picked up their orders because usually you can squeeze in there. So in heading toward the back of the bar, I had to pass by the air hockey machines, and I noticed that there was an intense game going on between two guys. There were several empty shot glasses already lined up along side of the machine and I guess that this combination of alcohol and wagering on who bought the next round of shots had these two guys playing for blood. I noticed that the puck was really zipping back and forth and NASCAR speed and the next thing I knew, this hard little plastic puck came flying off the table and nailed me right in the neck. The guys were apologetic, though, and actually bought me a drink, but obviously this is how the mark got there."

"Uh-huh," my brother responded, "and how, exactly, did you get that other bruise on the opposite side of your neck."

Having already committed to my story, I came up with the best explanation possible. "It ricocheted."

And in the uncomfortable pause that followed, I decided that next year I was going to skip the party and just send a card instead.