The Art of the Bird

Same dinner as below. Stephen and I discussing "the bird." Don't ask me how this conversation started.

Me: (flipping him the bird, NOT in a mean manner, just showing him I'm capable of being mean)

Stephen: Woah...yours is pretty formal. I mean, you do it with passion. It's legit.

Me: Ha, didn't know I was so good.

Stephen: (trying to do it, with the other fingers half-bent, not all down) This is what happens when I try to do it formally. My other fingers don't know what to do.

Me: (laughing) Your hand looks pained.

Stephen: The lady that did it to me in traffic the other day did it like that. It was premeditated. She waited for me to drive up, and then she just shot it at me.

Me: Yeah, she waited for you. You obviously gave her a few minutes to get it ready...

Stephen: It's just not in my repertoire to do that. That's not something I would just think to do.

Me: (laughing...repertoire?)

Stephen: You know, I don't like repertoire. Arsenal. Yeah, it's not in my ARSENAL to do that.

Me: (dying laughing...who says that?)


*Before you ask...No, Stephen and I don't flip people the bird. Yes, we are dorks. No, we aren't white-trash, at least not completely. Our mothers DID teach us well...