The Art (and lack thereof) of Acceptance
June 05, 2005

Things are always taken out of context. Things overheard without getting the ““rest of the story,”“ as Paul Harvey would say. When things are heard, single statements, without the proper necessary background information, it is the listener’s duty to not jump to conclusions or simply dismiss the statement all together… unless you are us and you constantly overhear the most amazingly stupid, ridiculous things. Then, if you are us, you write them up in a column and make all kinds of judgments about the context of the conversations and the people who were involved.


Not that we make judgments about people. Noooo. Never ever would we do such a thing. We just see right through to the truth. Like that dorky kid at the movies reading a Hobbits Journal who was obviously a loser living in his Mom’s basement or that chick dressed in leopard skin EVERYTHING. She was a hooker, no doubt about it. Judging people is wrong. But revealing the truth is OK. Anyone catch the sarcasm wrapped up in irony there? Huh?


Like Leonardo did all over the breast of Kate in Titanic, we digress.


It’s not our fault really. We will typically sit down for a nice dinner, alone or with friends and like a bullet, straight to the brain, shot from a stupid gun, sentences wedge in our heads sometimes forcing us to leave the room in order to laugh. And for some odd reason, we hear a lot of these things at Denny’s restaurants. Who would have thought?


“He’s just gonna break up the band. And it’s a shame ‘cus he is the best banjo player ever. And I know ‘cus my daddy was a banjo player,”


This is the type of shit we are talking about. That was overheard while sitting in a Taco Bell. How can you fight something like this? After hearing this Aaron had to beat cheeks outside before choking on a chalupa and Jeff simply sat at the table in disbelief, drowning his laughter with a 16 oz Dr. Pepper. We aren’t even sure that there is a context in which this statement would make sense.


“Pete is kinda dumb but a total party animal. His brother though is a fuckin’ genius… he like got into MIT and um, USC and stuff.”


Other then Denny’s, movie theaters are the best/worse place to overhear bits and parts of conversation. We simply love the fact that the speaker of this idiocy is implying that USC is on the same intellectual/scholastic level as MIT. By the end of the movie, the name of which escapes us now, we were only left with one question. Would Pete have liked it, seeing as he’s a big dumbass and all or was it more of a Pete’s brother, the genius, movie?


“I ate the whole thing. I ain’t even playing, straight up!”


This was overheard at work. There we were, sitting there, minding our own business when a girl, with an already questionable command of the English language, offers that little piece of happiness. Oh… did we mention that she is white? I’m sure you probably guessed that. Statements like this are a direct result of growing up and living in the same small, white, redneck town your entire life.


“Yeah, no. We just came to Denny’s first. Yeah. We wanted to stay in our dresses a little longer.”


Denny’s. This is classic Denny’s. On accident, we ended up there one night after hitting the local Cineplex (that’s a fancy word for movie house). It just so happened that prom was ending right about the same time. Filling Denny’s, the only place in Flagstaff open after 11 p.m., with giggly schoolgirls and they’re anxious dates. The conversation mentioned was happening between a mother on one end of a cell phone and one of the said schoolgirls. YOU DON’T TELL YOUR MOM THAT YOU WANT TO STAY IN YOUR DRESS A LITTLE LONGER. That implies that soon you will not be in the dress. And thus, the anxious date’s dream, and Mom’s worst nightmare will come true. And don’t these kids know anything? They are supposed to get the sex first. Then go to Denny’s. Like the other couple we saw. Because nothing is more fun than shameful, confused silence shared over a plate of chicken fingers. At least these kids still had the dream in their eyes, unlike the table of four guys, alone. Justifying their pathetic lives by making fun of the waitress who looked a little too much like that fat chick from ““Facts of Life.”“


We suppose that it is our curse to hear stuff like this. As much fun as we have making fun of those that say these things, it’s only fair that we suffer for it by letting it eat away at our minds until we end up in a looney bin screaming at the attending nurses to ““let Pete’s brother go! That kid is a god dammed genius. He could’ve gone to USC!”“