Venus and Mars

I don't know why, but the memory of this little conversation popped into my head recently:

The scene: Irish pub on St. Patrick's Day.
The players: myself, Lob, guy we're friends with, other guy we're just beginning to be friends with, and a bunch of their boys whom we don't know at all.

The topic of conversation: guessing a woman's age

 

Our friend had been explaining to Lob and myself that he can tell any woman's age just by looking at her legs.  We were not as confident in his abilities as he was himself.  I remember insisting that my legs looked no different than they had 10 years earlier.  (That is no longer the case.  Sigh.)

Anyway, I spin off to talk to New Friend, Jay, and maybe it was the St. Patty's beer, but we were still on the age thing and how old people look, and blah, blah, blah.  For whatever reason, I turned to his friend, one of the guys I did not know, and asked (because he was standing apart from us, hadn't heard what were talking about, and didn't know how old I was):

"How old do you think I am?"*

his response?  After a split second of sizing me up:

"A little quiet, but a freak in bed."

me: blink, blink, mouth drops open, "uh.... (blink) ... how... old ... do you think.... I am...?"

him: "Oh.  I thought you said, 'How do you think I am.'  The quiet ones are always freaks in bed."

 

Yes, because that would be a completely natural question that I regularly ask people I've just met.  The part that I find most fascinating is not only how what (he thought) I asked did not phase him at all, but also that he was so immediately ready with a response.

 

These were two different worlds we were coming from.

 

*This took place around 5 years ago - I would never ask this question now, as it would greatly increase the likelihood of me having to state my age.