Objective Reverse-Bechdel Humor

When Reverse-Bechdel Meets an Immovable Object

Objectify me, that’ll be fun

Grandma Smillew offered me hot cocoa. I added Bailey’s Irish Cream when her back was turned. Dealing with Grandma S is often a conversational challenge, but I like doing Smillew Rahcuef a favor and taking visit duty, because then he’ll owe me. Besides, she promised to collaborate.

When she turns back to me Grandma says,

“Let’s talk about boys.”

Ummm. No, Grandma, let’s not.

“I read you recently had an encounter with quite a looker who’s much younger than you. How do you do it?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

“Let’s not talk about that, Grandma. There’s been too much speculation in print already. Tell me more about you.”

“Oh no you don’t Missy. You’re not getting off that easy. Did you? Get off that easy? Did he know his way around a clitoris? I know you have a thing about that.”

“Look, Grandma, we’re supposed to be collaborating on a story that will pass the Bechdel test! If we only talk about men, we’ll fail the test, plus men are a never-ending topic who need lots of fixing and analyzing and debating about behaviors and stuff and we’ll never get any writing done.”

Grandma pouts,

“Okay, how about this. We’ll write a story about us talking to each other about topics deeper than the crack of a man’s ass. But first let’s write one about that cute young stud who picked you up and what he said about you to his buddy the next day. How about them apples?”

Seeing that she won’t drop the subject, I sigh and give in, which seems to be a pattern for me. Here is the Studly conversation, as imagined by us, but mostly by Grandma.

Smolderingly Hot Young Stud: “Hey bro, I picked up a hot-to-trot older woman last night at the burger joint.”

Bro: “Again? Dude, you got to spread the goodness around. Don’t spend all your smoldering hotness in one place.”

SHYS: “It’s cool. She’s cool. I told her it was a one time offer. The bartenders didn’t sell me out.”

Bro: “So? How was it? How was she?”

SHYS: “Good Bro. No, she was GREAT. No bra under her sweat shirt, or as I like to call it, shirt of sweat. But no sweat, full breasts, and nipples that pointed straight at me. Or rather, at my johnson But hey, they pointed.”

Bro: “Did you show her a good time? How long had it been for her, man?”

SHYS: “She said it hadn’t been that long, and I didn’t press. How would I be doing her a favor if she gets laid whenever she wants?”

Bro: “Okay, but did you still do her a favor? Did she come?”

SHYS: “She seemed to have a great time. All the signs were there. She offered to teach me all the ways around a woman’s body afterwards.”

Bro: “Um, yeah. I’m thinking she didn’t come. You accepted her offer, right?”

SHYS: “I told her ‘I’m good. Women already fall in love with me enough. If I get better I’m doomed.’ Amiright??”

Bro: “I think you’re crazy, fool. If an older woman offered to teach this new dog old tricks, I’d be all over that. Besides, how are they falling in love with you when you’re only offering a one-time deal? Maybe they all just want another shot at teaching you stuff.”

SHYS: “Naw man. I’ve got a six-pack, chiseled arms, a dick she said was ‘gorgeous.” What else do I need?”

Bro: “Somehow I don’t think this is about what you need, my man. Except lessons. Why don’t you introduce us? I’ll take her up on the offer.”

SHYS: “No can do, bro. She ghosted me.”

“Okay Grandma S, that’s pretty good. Now can we move on?”

“You betcha. Now let’s talk about boys.”