Tonight at dinner my mother-in-law asked me if I had any pictures of my husband’s cousin’s new baby. It’s the South, every drop of common blood means kinship for life.
I looked on my phone to see if my archaic iPhone would pull up Facebook quickly enough to be useful, and alas, it was crapping out. I asked my husband if he had Mandy’s number, and he looked it up for me, and I sent her a text message.
The oddest conversation emerged… behold the image:
The first time she mentioned “perks” I assumed it was an autocorrect of “pics,” so I tried to make a lame joke about standard perks (hence the insurance comment, yeah, I’m lame).
I began to get puzzled by her responses, and asked her if she was having a stroke (slurred speech and nonsensical talk are no laughing matter!)
I was showing the chain of messages to my husband who was equally confused when the phone rang.
Here is how the conversation went:
Caller: (lazily, smarmily) Heeeey…
Me: Who is this?
Caller: It’s Mike. You got the perks?
Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think I have the wrong number.
Sketchy Mike: Perks. Percocet. I need some.
Me: I definitely don’t have Percocet (all of this was beginning to sink in at this point) I definitely have the wrong number. This number used to belong to my cousin Mandy, and I was trying to get her to send me a picture of her new baby.
Sketchy Mike: You don’t have any perks? You know where I can get some?
Me: Well, since she just had a baby, she may have some, but I doubt she’ll share. Sorry.
Sketchy Mike: So, Jennifer, can I ask you a question? How old are you?
Me: Um, I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.
Sketchy Mike: (laughing) Ah, alright girl. Good night.
Artist’s Rendering of Sketchy Mike
I laughed harder than I have in quite some time… until it occurred to me that there was a darker undercurrent even than the wanton drug use… I asked, “Are you having a stroke?”
His answer, “Not yet, need perks.”
Uhm… He was not talking about a blockage in a brain artery… Oh dear…
Something tells me he was also not referring to painting techniques…
I did finally get in touch with real Mandy, and she was quite pleased that the first memory I will have of her son will be attached to such a great story. Can’t wait to meet this kid.
I wanna squish his cute face!
Another wonderful side-effect of this rather traumatic conversation is that Matt now has a DJ name, in the event he ever becomes a DJ: DJ Sketchy Mike. Since he is still in the market for a job, this may be a possibility.
Matt is still recovering from the club scene in Blade, so I doubt DJ Sketchy Mike will be making any appearances any time soon.
All in all, a very entertaining moment, and it has taught me to never underestimate the ability of sketchy males to turn anything, including dire physical health issues, into a double entendre.