Dirty minds think alike, clean ones think alone
At the soup kitchen I help volunteer at we usually serve fruit to the men, women & children at the end of the food line. We usually have apples, oranges, and bananas to which the latter usually goes first; it’s a softer food to chew and some of the individuals have dental problems so a banana is ideal.
I usually serve by running back and forth from the kitchen with food, exchanging the empty trays of the ones who are serving with more food, after 3.5 years of doing it I kinda run the show at times since I know the tempo and am pretty spot on with when to run back to the kitchen for more food.
It just so happened a few months ago that we had an abundance of bananas…but it wasn’t quickly known, so when when I brought out a lot of bananas, there was somewhat of a banana frenzy at the soup kitchen! Being apart of the soup kitchen I have the opportunity to sit and eat with the people when we’ve served everybody, which I like because there are times where I am hungry for food, but there are also times where I’m hungry for conversation. Usually I interact with a woman who’s a few years older than me, a woman born and raised in Germany and I*’s English is peppered with English words that sound more German than English, but I understand her well and she’s kind and sweet, she invited me to her wedding a little over a year and a half ago, so we’ve got a past and presence together.
One guy who usually hangs out with her is G*, now G*’s a bear of a man, he used to be a bouncer and some of the braggadocio comes out now and then by the way he carries himself, but he means well and is a softie at heart…just don’t tell I told you this, otherwise I might get a painful noogie.
So during the great banana frenzy of 2012, I* asked G* to get her a banana, with a devilish smirk and a twinkle in his eye, he implored what kind of banana, because yes, there was some variance to the bananas we had. So it became a drawn out conversation between the two of them describing bananas in a most phallic manner. I happened to catch the middle of the conversation, but by then G* had shifted the banana talk to another fruit that he prefers…melons! Oh wow, again with the innuendo, but I* was a sport and let him talk about melons, after all she gave her fair-share of input as to what type of bananas she likes.
Did I mention that my mom helps out at the soup kitchen as well? Well my mom caught the end of the banana conversation and all of the melon story, which she had a look of suppressed disgust on her face; My mom’s sense of humor is funny and clean, and there are times where she wishes other people’s sense of humor was this way, but since people will be people, she hears bawdy humor much to her disliking. I thought the melon-and-banana similes and suggestive remarks was hysterical, I can handle such humor, whether I should or not remains unanswered, but there was also the dynamic that my dear sweet mother heard pretty much all of it; her reactions to said innuendos was as funny as the jokes themselves.
Dirty minds think alike, and certainly clean ones think alone.