So I'm at work today (car rental place) and I'm driving from Point A to Point B with a coworker in her late 50's, and another in her early 30's. In front of us is a car, the license plate of which reads 'Arkansas' -- rather reasonably, in retrospect, as I assume the car was from Arkansas.
"What the hell is that?" asks the older one.
"What?" I reply, thinking she's spotted something silly amongst his various 'fuck obama' bumper stickers.
"Arr-kansas." she reads, deadpan.
"...Arkansas?" I ask, completely unaware of the lovecraftian horror that is about to fly up out of the stomach of the universe and slap me across the face.
"It says ARR-Kansas!" she protests. She's pronouncing 'Arr' like a pirate...followed by the state, 'Kansas'. Bearing in mind: this is NOT an uneducated woman.
"It's..." I begin, flabbergasted. "It's ARKANSAS. The STATE."
"Is that what's it called?" asks the employee in her early 30's, as though fascinated by this influx of new information -- like I'm the Johnathan Swift-style Future Man who's dropped onto the island and shown them all how to make fire.
"Yeah." I stammer, over the roaring sound of fuck filling my head. "Yeah." I say. "What?"
I repeat again, slightly more emphatic, as though I can retroactively make sense of what I'm hearing if I say the words hard enough:
"It's ARKANSAS, MAN. IT'S. A. STATE."
They look at me, no joke, like my head is on fire.
So yeah guys, I pretty much just give up. Going to Mars now; who wants my 360?
"What the hell is that?" asks the older one.
"What?" I reply, thinking she's spotted something silly amongst his various 'fuck obama' bumper stickers.
"Arr-kansas." she reads, deadpan.
"...Arkansas?" I ask, completely unaware of the lovecraftian horror that is about to fly up out of the stomach of the universe and slap me across the face.
"It says ARR-Kansas!" she protests. She's pronouncing 'Arr' like a pirate...followed by the state, 'Kansas'. Bearing in mind: this is NOT an uneducated woman.
"It's..." I begin, flabbergasted. "It's ARKANSAS. The STATE."
"Is that what's it called?" asks the employee in her early 30's, as though fascinated by this influx of new information -- like I'm the Johnathan Swift-style Future Man who's dropped onto the island and shown them all how to make fire.
"Yeah." I stammer, over the roaring sound of fuck filling my head. "Yeah." I say. "What?"
I repeat again, slightly more emphatic, as though I can retroactively make sense of what I'm hearing if I say the words hard enough:
"It's ARKANSAS, MAN. IT'S. A. STATE."
They look at me, no joke, like my head is on fire.
So yeah guys, I pretty much just give up. Going to Mars now; who wants my 360?