Bossy

I usually go out of my way to try to make fun of myself while I write these things. I’m going to try my hardest to do the same thing in this one. In theory, it should be easy, because I was the only person in a growing crowd who was completely clueless and lacking in even the required vocabulary to understand what was going on. This time, however, I’m not sure it’s going to work. Let’s find out!

This story took place last week, in the lobby in front of my office, on the temporary secretary’s last day in my building, when the manager was away. Because of that stack of details, the mood was casual. The secretary was reading some sheet about an activity one of her grade-school-aged children was eligible for. I did not know that specific detail. All I knew was that as I walked past, she asked me, “So are you going to watch donkey basketball this year?”

I was confused. The term “donkey basketball” was not cohering into any likely event, at least not in my head. Reeling against the unknown, my subconscious mind decided that the term could probably be filed in the same folder as terms such as “Cleveland Steamer” and “Donkey Punch.” That did not much help me reply to the cheerful secretary who was waiting expectantly.

Just then one of the younger operators walked by. The guy is about my age, and a pretty quick wit. Clearly deciding that I was taking too long, the secretary casually swiveled in her chair in his direction and asked him the same thing. He broke into a rare, complete grin and cheerfully replied, “Of course!”

That smelled fishy to me. I broke silence by asking them to tell me what donkey basketball is. Much laughter ensued. Now I was almost positive that I was in the middle of an April Fools prank. They continued to laugh, and kept trading off sentences as they tripped over each other explaining what donkey basketball is. Through the boisterous laughter, all I could clearly make out was that it involved a lot of children, donkeys, and the passing of something.

Something about the loud laughter and the “children, donkeys, and passing something” trio left me suspicious. Sensing my confusion, the secretary them asked me if I had ever played “Bossy Bingo.”

Again, confusion was the best I could muster. Again, I asked for some clarification. This time, I was told that Bossy Bingo is a community event consisting of painting giant white boxes on an open field, taking bets on the boxes, releasing a herd of cows, and waiting to see which box gets shat in first. Preferably while drinking and roasting brats. Again, some skepticism on my end.

Then, along comes my predecessor who confirms to my satisfaction that, yes, both these games are real, and common in small, rural WI areas such as those surrounding the city where I live.

After he leaves, along comes another engineer who, when hearing of my earlier confusion, informs me that what I was thinking of was a “Donkey Show,” which I should neither Google at work, nor expect to be able to read about anyway unless I learn how to speak Mexican. (I am aware that “Mexican” is not a language.)

So now, let’s return to the original question. Throughout this entry, I was the only person who had no idea what everyone was talking about. Hands down, I was the clueless one. But did I manage to make fun of myself while explaining that in detail?