Loading

Bee sting conspiracies and my husband, the… spy??

For a year, I have been hiding a shameful secret. A horrible shameful secret that has plagued my life every moment of every single day for 365 days.
It is now time to come clean, so with a large gulp and a few deep breaths- here goes nothing:
I have no earthly idea what my husband does for a living.
FOR SHAME!

Alright so all that shameful shit up there is false- but the not knowing part is true. I really honestly have no damn idea what he does for a living. I mean, I know WHERE he works- and it isn’t that I haven’t asked, it’s just that every time someone asks me to describe what he does or to explain what the hell I mean when I give him the vaguest of vague job titles that he gives me, and then I go to him to have HIM explain it to me (again)… I suddenly wonder if perhaps I am narcoleptic because I swear to cheezus I fall asleep.
I know, it’s mean- but it’s true! Once I start hearing too many big words that I don’t understand and computery mumbo-jumbo and program this and number that- I think my brain goes into safe mode. I can’t, no matter how many times he explains it, figure out what it is he ACTUALLY does other than work with a computer.. doing something for someone… that’s important. I think.

What I did know was that the company he works for makes a whole lot of moolah. Not just because they have people working all over the country (maybe the world? Again, safe mode) for places like the Military- but because for their employee appreciation day they rented out Kings Dominion. The entire park. For an entire day. With free food, parking, and admission. That’s some serious shizz right there, y’all. I also know his coworkers… well he always has nice things to say about them, but a lot of them are his age and single, some still living at home.
Dare I say that he and his coworker buddies are *GASP* nerds? No no, I would never SAY that. I might type it, but i’d never SAY it.

And then you go to the company website, and it says things like “Internet Espionage” and you start wondering perhaps if these aren’t a bunch of nerds, but instead… SUPER SPIES! And maybe even typing this blog about it will have me carted away by men in black never to be heard from again.

So would I be going to this weird day of bought-out-amusement-park-ness surrounded by extras from the cast of Revenge of the Nerds (who ended up winning in the end, keep in mind), or super stealthy top secret James Bond-ish spies??
All of that damn anticipation over WHO my husband REALLY is… for nothing. It was like any other park day- a CROWDED park day at that. Like, holy balls- I had no idea SO many people worked for his company. I was all “Psh, who’s going to drive hours and hours to go to Kings Dominion”?
The answer is everyone. And their mother.

I did not completely escape the super-secret-agenty shit though. Stuff was weird, y’all. There was just something NOT NORMAL about yesterday, and I can’t put my finger on it- but I would bet Thomas and Perry the fucking Platypus were involved in the shenanigans.

How else do you explain standing in line to get INTO the park and being stung by a bee. IN THE ARMPIT?
IN.THE.ARMPIT.
And then rushing to the first aid station because… I’m a gigantic baby and wanted some damn pain-spray on that bitch that shit was killing me- and they had nothing. Oh, nothing but the suggestion that if I was going to have some kind of death reaction to the sting, it would be in 5 minutes. THANKS!
How also would you explain me, the rollercoaster junky- NEVER hesitating to ride a new ride (even the one with NO line because it looks so absolutely horrifying), hopping on a coaster and BLACKING OUT at the end of a drop? Conspiracy!!
Why ELSE would the catered food taste like dirt? Well… I mean I guess you could blame shitty cooking for THOUSANDS of people on that- but still. I sniff mega-chicanery here. My spidey senses, they be tingling.

So, if you’re reading this blog… and there are no further blogs- you know THEY (whomever THEY are) have gotten to me.
If you’re thinking I should show a little respect for my Super-Spy husband who very well might be James Bond (but I can tell you, will never be caught dead in one of those teensy European hot-pants mankini) and his not-at-all-nerdy job…
Think again. What is the point of being married if you can’t frequently tease your spouse? I mean, I thought that’s exactly why I signed on all of those dotted lines- to make it open season year round.
Next thing people will be telling me I’m supposed to love and dote and cherish and all that shit. Snort, come on now!

Posted on September 10, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 5 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden

  •  

5 Comments