My roommates and I were sitting around last night and during a description of a person not in our collective circle of friends, I heard what I thought was the word “teats.” I thought, out loud, that “teats” seemed a little to agricultural to be used as a word describing another person. Of course, the word actually used was not “teats.” Imagine my disappointment. While kind of a base way of talking about a woman, the word itself is great. And it’s so much better than “tits” or “titties” because it’s a high, chirping sound, pleasant to the ear, while the aforementioned alternatives sound flat and uninteresting. Still, using the much more aurally interesting “teats” around a human woman is awkward and should be avoided.
The word was stuck with me for the rest of the night and on through the next morning, and prompted some rather psychotic-looking giggling while on the subway. I didn’t even have my headphones with me, so I couldn’t use the excuse that I was laughing at something on my iPod. I was just sitting there giggling to myself like an asshole. Anyway, what sparked the giggling in the first place was the sight of one of those people–there’s gotta be one every single morning–who had some enormous suitcase on wheels and was trying to drag it around the station while sucking on one of those sweet Starbucks blended whatevers with the domed plastic top. I saw this and thought that maybe, as a species, we’re regressing maybe just a little if we’d rather suckle on some sweet teat than walk comfortably. I mean, the suitcase was flying everywhere, not even on its wheels half the time, crashing in to wall and people, and this idiot was just stumbling around suckling on it like it was mother’s milk. Honestly, if we’re going to have forty-year-old men sucking frozen coffee out of clear plastic teats, can’t we get bars to put rubber nipples on the tops of shot glasses? Because that’s what I want. I want a shot of whiskey, but I don’t want to shoot it–no, no! I want to suck it directly from a plastic teat! I want to suckle from a whiskey teat while wandering around the airport looking for my gate, because this is a free country, god damn it, and if we’re going to regress, we ought to do it with that American can-do attitude.
I think that bit broke down a little toward the end, but it’s a first draft.