Just to prove that my co-workers are about as dysfunctional as my family, i just overheard this approximate conversation from three of our admissions councilers filing out of a birthday party:
Gina: Let’s play “either/or.”
Ian: What’s that?
G: I’ll ask you an either/or question, and you have to answer. Like, would you rather be stranded on a desert island with Bob Dole or The Rock?
Eric: You didn’t use “either” in that question.
G: Be quiet, Eric.
Ian: Well, that’s not much of a choice. I’d say neither.
G: There is no “neither!” You have to pick one.
E: Well, they both refer to themselves in the third person, which would get annoying, but The Rock could lift boulders and stuff.
I: Yeah, but Bob Dole would die first.
G: Alright, good job. So, here’s another one. Would you rather have an sexual experience with a guy of your choosing every day for an entire year…
E & I: [insert typical “Touching another man’s pee-pee is a fate worse than death” commentary here]
G: Or, have Cameron Diaz come to your house every day…
E: Would she clean?
G: Let me finish! Have Cameron Diaz come to your house every day to shove a beer bottle up your ass.
You could hear crickets chirping in Russia at that point, i swear.
G: With the cap still on it. [because, obviously they needed clarification]
E: But, would she clean afterwards?
I: Um… when you mentioned a “sexual experience,” could we just watch some porn together?
College Admissions. Very glamorous work.
