Danny and I just don't mix well.* We've tried, but it just hasn't happened yet. Liz and I began to mesh as soon as we started talking to each other. It was during a trip to Mobile that this example of how well Liz & I mesh and how little Danny & I mix took place. The other person on the trip was Richard. He's a big Cracker Barrel fan, and so we ended up there for breakfast one morning. (Okay, two mornings.) Part of the reason Danny and I just don't "fit" is that we never get each other's jokes. Well, that, or we just don't think they're funny. The four of us are at the table and Danny has just made some joke that, of course, Liz and I have not laughed at (cause we do tend to get all the same jokes) and so he bemoans that "I'll never score at this table." Well, then the snickering begins. Sure, I know Danny meant "score" as in get us to laugh, but you got to admit, usually people mean something else when they talk about "scoring" in mixed company. And that kind of scoring is just never gonna happen between any of the pairs that were that table, y'know? So Liz & I start to laugh. Part of that also has to do with Danny having a deep, booming voice, and the Cracker Barrel having tile floors and a lot of older patrons, factors that lead to overheard conversations and blushing. Then comes the kicker. He sees that he's made us laugh. And he gets that he only makes us laugh inadvertantly. So what does he say, in his deep, booming voice, now louder cause he's excited? In the Cracker Barrel full of old people where sound travels like light in a tunnel? "I only score with you when I'm not trying!" Have I mentioned what kind of laugh this Richard guy has? Egads. You've heard horses, right? And maybe somebody choking? And a foghorn? Now you're getting the idea. Liz & I, alike in mind and shame, hung our heads.
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