Stupid Men Tricks

This morning, as I’m sitting at my desk, busily working away like the good and faithful employee I am…yeah, right…I kept hearing Kelly laughing away in her tiny cubicle. Finally, I called out the doorway, “What’s so darn funny?” To which, she replied, “Haven’t you read the email I sent you?”

Well, she sent three, but the one that had provoked such a raucous response had no title in the subject line. After reading it, and laughing my considerably large butt off, I came up with the one above. Perhaps you’ll agree with me after you read the following.

Here’s the setup. Evidently, the gentleman who wrote the following story had decided to purchase a Pocket Taser Stun Gun for his wife for their anniversary…the romantic dog. Anyway, after thoroughly “checking out” the purchase, he decided to write about the experience. Not sure where it was published or if it is even true, but it sure makes for a knee slapping good read. I hope you agree.

* * * * * * * *

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary, and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife…Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-A batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burned spot is on the face of her microwave!

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat…Gracie…looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie…for a fraction of a second…but thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in the other. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would reportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. All the while, I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5” long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference...pretty cute really...and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries...thinking to myself, “no possible way!”

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.

I'm sitting there…alone (Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as if to say, “Don't do it, dumb ass!”) reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. So, I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh...pushed the button...and...

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!! WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!

I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both onto the carpet over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and a tingling sensation in my legs! The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “Do it again, stupid, do it again!”

Note: If you ever feel compelled to “mug” yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three-second burst would be considered conservative.

SON-OF-A-*%#... That hurt like **% !!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time had become a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. (How did they get up there?) My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. Oh, and I'm still looking for my testicles. I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it. If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.

* * * * * * * *

So that’s it. Hope you had a good chuckle. Some of these emails are just too good to simply “forward” or let languish in an email folder. That’s why I “store” them here, so I can find them when I need a good laugh.

On another note, I have been writing a "Bobby" story...well, it started out as a story and is now a 175 page Novella with no end in sight...and was contemplating a scene in which Bobby and my "heroine" are mugged late at night in NYC. I need Bobby to be momentarily stunned or incapacitated in some way, but didn't want him shot, so was considering having the "bad guy" tase him. Now, I may have to rethink the taser thing.