Svelte

Anna and I were introduced to someone last week in his nice, spacious office. He had a solid oak desk. The kind with a desktop you could ice skate on. Or at least slip and slide across if it were out in the back yard. Those were my first thoughts when we walked in to his office. He was dressed in a nice suit, tie and polished shoes. He invited us to sit down on his posh couch. Svelte, if I might say so. My cousin, Andrew, and I came up with a good working definition of "svelte." It should be used to describe anything that is trying to look attractive that you would never touch with a ten-foot pole. Like a llama with an under bite.

Anyway, there we were, sitting in a very svelte couch. After some chit-chat, the conversation was going, but it was still luke-warm. And then the gentleman said, "Tell me about yourself Greg?" Anna looked up at the man and said, in reference to my actual name, "He's Spencer."

The man was sitting fairly distant, and all he heard was "He's special."

I nodded in affirmation to Anna's statement, while the man nodded in affirmation to my affirmation that I was special. Major miscommunication.

I repeated that I was "Spencer," which his brain interpreted again as "special," and he affirmed again how good it was that I was special. It took me and Anna a combined effort to halt the conversation and say loudly enough my actual name. Then the ice was completely broken. I don't think we could hold back spurts of laughter for the next ten minutes while we thought about what this fine gentleman thought of getting to know Anna and his "special" husband.

Great way to get to know someone while sitting on a svelte couch.