Skippy is here with you once again. Here to spread the joy, the wisdom, the love
that is me. Though I really don't know why I bother, it's not like I'm getting
paid. It's not like this gets me babes. It's not like I'm swarmed by admirers
when I stroll down the street. I like to think that I do it because it does some
good, but then I realize that most of you aren't all that bright. So I guess the
reason I really do this every month is to keep Andy off of my back for another
thirty days. Of course this missive is a week late, so it's more like 25 days,
but hey, who's counting right?
Occasionally folks a problem pops up that needs to be addressed. Now I am a firm
believer in sweeping things under the rug for as long as possible. You never
know when a problem that you have been able to ignore for a long time will
suddenly disappear of its own accord. Granted, that hasn't worked for me yet,
but I am hopeful. Unfortunately, this is not that kind of problem. This one has
to be addressed kids, because if it can strike the Ol' Skipster, trust me when I
tell that it can happen to you. That is why I feel the need to speak on the
recent malfunctioning of my disconnect.
Now I know what you are all thinking, "What the hell is a disconnect?" Either
that or "Who the hell is Skippy and why should I care?" I can't help you with
the second question, because if you don't know Skippy, you don't know Love, and
if you don't Love, I have no time for you. The answer to the first question is a
bit easier. The disconnect is that function of your brain that keeps your mouth
closed while it processes your thoughts. For instance, if you are at a party and
you meet someone for the first time and they positively reek like a three day
old fish; the disconnect is what allows you to say "Very pleased to meet you,
but I have to refresh my drink now." As opposed to, "My God man, you reek like a
three day old fish!"
I think we can all agree that the disconnect is a very important feature of the
human mind. Its most important function occurs when you are intimate with a
person of the opposite sex. Then the disconnect can be a lifesaver or a
destructive beast. Unfortunately for me, I have met the beast. You see I didn't
lose my disconnect around everyone. I didn't even lose it around every woman
that I was intimate with, I only lost it around one woman. Luckily for me she
was an understanding soul. Not overly understanding, because she will no longer
speak to me, but fairly understanding because she didn't kill me while I slept.
You take what you can get when the disconnect goes.
It all started innocently enough, we met at the party of a mutual friend and
proceeded to as they say, "Hit it off." Hitting it off in this case meaning
jumping each others bones at the first opportunity. The hitting it off part went
pretty well, as that part of most relationships usually does, it was afterwards,
as we were lying there, that I first noticed a problem.
You see, I was thinking to myself, "That was pretty good, I wonder if there are
any Arena Football Reruns on right now?"
Suddenly this young woman says to me, "Why don't you go check and see?"
Not realizing what was going on yet, I said, "Check what?"
She replied, a little confused now I am sure, "If there are any Arena Football
Reruns on."
It was only then that I realized that I had actually said that out loud. I was a
little disturbed, to be sure, but I really didn't worry too much about it. I
wrote it off to the drink or the time or a fluke. Besides, as transgressions go,
wondering if there is a football game on after having sex is a fairly minor one.
So I let it pass, figuring that it wouldn't happen again.
Well we saw each other more after that, nothing serious, mind you, just
friendly, and we both saw other people. I had a few more experiences with the
missing disconnect around her, but I still didn't realize the extent of the
problem. Sure, I said positively insane things around her, but she thought I was
just honest, so it was actually working for me. I let it ride.
Then one night, it was a Thursday as I recall, we were lying in bed and I
realized that if all of my plans for the weekend came to fruition, I would
have three different women over the next three days. I allowed myself a
little smirk at that when suddenly she said, "I don't know that I really
needed that information."
"What information is that?" I replied.
"That you plan on having two more women in this bed this weekend." She said,
more amused than anything else.
That's when it hit me, that is when I realized what was going on with me. My
disconnect wasn't working, it had completely shut down. I was actually saying
what I was thinking without a filter. To make matters worse, the realization
that it wasn't working didn't make it kick in again. I actually told her about
the disconnect and its malfunction. I actually told a woman that I had just had
carnal knowledge with that not only do we lie to you, we do it constantly and
without thinking about it. We do it so often in fact, that we have our own name
for it.
She was, to put it mildly, not pleased with this knowledge. As most people are
when faced with the ugly truth about men, she was unhappy and just a little
sickened. But as is usually the case, she blamed me exclusively and refused to
believe that all men were as warped and twisted as myself. I, being a good man,
encouraged this belief. I may have told her one of man's deepest secrets, but I
wasn't going to reaffirm her newfound knowledge. By the time we were done
talking that night, I had convinced her that I was a pig and that no other man
would even know what I was talking about if I mentioned the disconnect to them.
She went on her way, never to return and I pondered what had caused my
disconnect to go on the fritz like that.
I still think of her from time to time, wondering if it was something about her
that caused the disconnect to misfire. I have my regrets about the whole
episode. I regret that I couldn't embrace my newfound honesty. I regret that I
even inadvertently hurt a fine woman. I regret that I didn't take that
opportunity to really get in touch with my feelings, but mostly, I regret that
the other two women fell through that weekend, cause three different women in
three days would have been cool... wait a minute! I didn't just write that did
I... oh no, not again?