When it comes to telling stories I’m what Charlie Murphy would call a habitual line-crosser.
I don’t filter, and I don’t leave out any detail.
I don’t love disgusting or filthy humor, per se. But I love shock value. Here’s an example, the movie Something About Mary was a bit much at times, but the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles should’ve won an Oscar.
About fifteen years back, my dad took my brother and I out for dinner at some little café or diner in Canoga Park/Fallbrook area. Not sure what anybody ordered, but I do remember the waitress was somewhere around my dad’s age. She was probably in her mid to late fifties.
Every time she would come to the table she would, pretty much ignore my brother and I and only look at my dad. He was cordial, and would smile, but didn’t really initiate any conversation, or pick up on her.
After the second time she was at our table my brother tells my Dad “I think she’s digging on you.” He smiles, and nods and plays it off.
I figure I’d push it up a notch. So, I lean over, and whisper to him: “I think she wants to fuck your face.”
I got the response I wanted. He spit out his drink, and yells “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
After his shock disappeared, he laughed for a bit. One of only a few times I got a real belly laugh from him.