The problem with doing a podcast wherein one tells stories over a decade old about people one is still facebook friends with is this: They listen. That’s even more of a problem when we’re talking about someone who is meticulously argumentative, and someone else who is a firebomber.
My argumentative female friend responded to me in (of course) a rather lengthy fashion:
HER: I just listened to your podcast.
First, the most common form of Wellington is beef Wellington. Usually it’s the fillet smeared with mushroom duxelles and occasionally foie gras mousse. Lamb is almost never used.
Anyway, the L**** show down came in two parts. First, we had a meeting with her. That’s where she tried to scold us. Prior to this, she actually banged on everyone’s doors. Unfortunately, this was during midterms. I had stayed up most of the night studying, taken a math, physics and chemistry test that morning and wanted only to hibernate. Who knows maybe I would have been kinder if she had chosen another day. As it was, I was so exhausted that I don’t even remember most of my exchange with her. I laid into her and then went back to my room and took a nap. Esther has an exacting memory of it, though. When it came time for that meeting with the hall director, she started off accusing us of wanting to have orgies. The whole thing with her pretty much went from there. She was a bio grad student and didn’t run a lab. So, I think there might have been some additional weirdness there. I think I did tell her that she might bear some personal liability because L**** had informed her that she was no longer capable of performing her job. By the way, L***** was a business major whose aspiration in life was to manage the Walmart she worked at in high school
Oh, and I enjoyed your impression of me
ME: Can I post this response on the podcast blog?
HER: Um. Okay. But my grammar was terrible.
As though I had never seen a paragraph before.
ME: I can note that as well. In fact, I’ll just leave this conversation on the blog too.
As to the arghuments, I will concede the point. As to the Wellies, I’m Welsh, so she can screw off.
The firebomber was a little more terse.
HIM: Some inaccurate details, but the overall tone is correct. I totally did not notify the fire department beforehand. But it was a safe firebombing, though. I tested it beforehand (very late at night) to make sure.
ME: Sorry. I assumed you were way more responsible than you actually were.
HIM: So much less responsible than anybody thought. So, so much less.
If I had let them know, I they woudn’t have let me do it. It’s way easier to ask forgiveness than permission. “Hi, I’m here to clean up the smoke stains on the side of the building.” “Oh, it’s a good thing you showed up. We were about to call the cops.” (hands me a bucket, a brush, and a box of TSP)
So, there’s that fleshed out, for what its worth.