Guys, you wanna know how to win over that beautiful young lass (and perhaps even take them as your wife for life)?
Funny you should ask…
“Who does this dude think he is? Jesus?” snickered Mark, my future roommate and hopeful college graduate.
“Who, Bob? The new guy always wearing sunglasses in church?” I asked.
“His name is actually Bill, but yeah, that guy,” Mark replied as we both looked across the gymnasium where our local church held court every Sunday, chuckling to ourselves at the sight of Billy-Boy.
“I’m pretty sure Jesus even had those exact same Ray-Bans. At least that’s what he was wearing when he posed for the Shroud of Turin…” I noted.
“What? Ray-Bans? No, man, I’m not talking about homeboy’s sunglasses–wait? ‘Shroud of Turin’ What are you talking about?” Mark said side-tracked-ly.1Yes, I just made up the word–but we both know that’s the exact right word for this situation.
“Let me see your awesome iPhone 1,” I gestured to Mark to fork over his new toy that he had brought with him into church.
In no time I had pulled up the Shroud of Turin page on Wikipedia and was showing him that, indeed, our dude Jesús looked like he had been rocking some shades from 2,000 years in the future when they attempted to mummify him. Seriously. Check out the link above (or just look it up on Wikipedia yourself), and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
Mark was stunned.
“No sh*t. They do have the same sunglasses,” he side, clearly impressed by the uncanny resemblance. “But, no man, I’m talking about the wood.“
“Bill was also crucified on a cross? That is pretty Christ-like…” I mused.
“You dipsh*t, not that.” Mark realized that he had gotten himself into a battle of wits and puns with me, and was starting to get worried I might be putting up more points on the Humorous Statement Scoreboard (TM) than he was. “Bill? He’s is an actual carpenter–just like Rayban Jesus was.”
“Who the hell is a carpenter in this day and age, anyways?” I observed semi-incredulously.
“I guess Bill is,” Mark stated matter-of-factly, before pulling out the ol’ PSA trope. “You see kids? This is what happens when you don’t go to college–“
“–while tragically deciding to go to church in a college town,” I interrupted, trying to beat Mark to yet another punchline.
“Yeah, you gonna get mocked relentlessly behind your back by us intellectuals. Figures that he’s a carpenter–cuz he’s a real tool!”
We both tried to stifle our laughter at yet another great pun. Our pastor was in the middle of his sermon and we didn’t want to risk getting kicked out…again.
“We’ll continue this after church when we go out to lunch,” I reassured Mark, understanding that he was worried that we might be leaving some Bill-related jokes still on table…
“And have you noticed that Bill suffers from what some in the medical establishment like to call ‘Resting About-To-Cry-Like-A-Little-B**h Face?’ Like, seriously, half the time Bill is wearing an inexplicable frown that makes it look like he’s about to bust out crying at any moment.”
Mark and I had arrived at the Mexican restaurant ahead of the rest of the College/Young Professionals gang from church, and if one of us wasn’t dragging Bill’s ass then the other one definitely was. In fact, we were enjoying our new pastime even more than the complimentary chips and salsa we were scarfing down.
“And what’s with him being old?” At this point, I was edging us closer to a full-on Roast of Bill.
“I know right?!?” Mark concurred. “The guy’s what? Thirty-five, at least.”
“I swear the dude be using skin cream to keep his wrinkles from getting too out of hand,” I half-whispered, though no one was there yet to overhear me confiding in Mark.
“You know who he reminds me of?” Mark got a pensive, far-away look in his eyes. “Your friend from Kansas, Doug-E.–the guy who, despite being 27 and not being in college, would hang out with you and all your undergraduate friends, oblivious to how incredibly awk–“
Mark looked up and locked eyes with mine.
“I think we have found our new nickname for Bill,” he said with understated confidence.
“We have indeed…”
“You know…like AquaMan…right? AquaMan, the underwater superhero…you know who I’m talking about, right?”
Most of the gang–including Bill–had left the restaurant by this point, and I found myself in a lazy, meandering conversation with 2 or 3 of the available young lasses in our congregation. And I gotta be honest, nothing gets a good Christian boy higher than making a girl (or two) laugh. So I couldn’t help flex a bit and show off some of the comedic chops Mark and I had spent the better part of that Sunday honing.
“But instead of ‘Aqua’, we’re saying ‘Awkward’…because Bill is, ya know, super awkward…”
Nothing but crickets and blank stares from my audience. Nevertheless, I persisted. I cleared my throat and put on my best Movie Trailer Voice.
” ‘Ruining conversations with his mere presence, it’s…Awkward Man!’ “
Still, nothing. Time to lay out the facts and steamroll them with logic until they couldn’t deny how funny it I was.
“C’mon, y’all can clearly see it’s a pun. And it’s a hilarious one at that…”
I was slowly realizing that maybe–just maybe–these ladies didn’t have the same sense of humor that Mark and I shared.
It was time to go nuclear and resort to anachronistically pulling a Jeb…
The point of the story is you better figure out whether or not you’re capable of marrying someone without a sense of humor–
Hold up–wait a sec…
*checks notes*
Oh, my bad, that was this point of this story.
The real point here is that maybe it wasn’t my female audience’ ‘s lack of humor that was the problem. Perhaps…maybe…could it be…despite my killer stand-up routine, is there any chance I wasn’t exactly the ‘husband material’ they were looking for?
I distinctly remember thinking, “Oh, sh*t, these are kind-hearted church-going women of G0d! And I’m here, basically bragging about how Mark and I are like really good at making fun of this nice guy just because he doesn’t fit in perfectly to our little church clique…hmmm…maybe we’re the assholes. Oh, Jesus, we’re both gonna die virgins, aren’t we?”
The point being that there’s more to it than just making a girl laugh. And Jesus help you if being funny becomes so important to you that it turns you into a complete phallic-face2D*ckhead. I’m trying to hint at the term ‘d*ckhead’ here. ass-hat, well…let’s just say that between Mark and I, one of us learned our lesson and the other one is still single 16 years later…
Content created on: 28/30 September & 1 October 2023 (Thurs/Sat/Sun)
Footnotes & References:
Not only was Doug E not in college, and was older, but he lived 40 minutes away.