Pocket Lint
Asking Paul Treft for pocket lint was not the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had with him. Those are his words, not mine.
My freshman year of college, the mens basketball team went to Branson, Missouri, for the national tournament. Paul was the one who drove the cheerleaders. The poor man has 3 sons, so driving with 6 girls for 8 hours had to be difficult. We talked in silly accents, made up a nickname for him, and generally just drove him crazy the entire way to Branson. But even that wasn’t the most awkward part of the trip.
When I walked into his office today, Paul Treft said, “Hey Grace, how’s it going?”
“I have the worst assignment ever,” I said angrily. “Paul, do you have some pocket lint?”
“Pocket lint? Ummm,” he said, as he checked his pocket. “There ya go.”
I thanked him and told him about my stupid assignment and my stupid professor and how awkward this is. Paul laughed and said, “Grace, this is not the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had.
In Branson, Paul reminded me, I said I forgot something in my hotel room. And Paul, being a dad to boys said, what is it you need to get. I hesitated and hemmed and ha’d about what I needed before he figured it out.
Ross, if you want to make this assignment really awkward, make a tampon one of the scavenger items.