T.M.I

Ever thought you're having a casual conversation with someone you see everyday - but are not friends with them - and suddenly find yourself in a conversation you didn't realize you were heading towards? Funny, I seem to land myself in that situation quite a lot lately...

Today, I was in the toilet after my day's workout routine and as usual, almost daily, I ran into the red-haired (when I say red-hair, I don't mean the ang moh auburn shaded hair... I mean fire-engine screaming red colored hair) light-skinned (or light skinded as some of them call themselves) African-American janitor. I don't know her name despite having chatted with her a gazillion times and know where her joints hurt, her doctor's name at Baptist East and today, I found out more than I cared to know - her sex life. I kid you not!! Aunt Jemima (let's just call her that) is super friendly. She's about 50 yrs old, again, the distinctive short super red hair and walks with a slight limp from her knee surgery. She's as southern as can be and refers to everyone she talks to as 'baby' or 'honey'. I'm usually 'baby'.

Yesterday, after my swim, Aunt Jemima told me to make sure I dried my hair before going out into the cold or I'd catch 'piumonia'. No mistake in my spelling. That's exactly how she pronounced it. Today, she fussed at me when I dried my hands on my sweaty shirt. Oh, don't get me wrong, Aunt Jemima is the sweetest... but sometimes, I suppose we need to be a little more careful with how we direct our conversations...

Today... yikes today... I have no idea how we got onto talking about sex because at first she was asking me if we could switch lives because she assumed I have a good life since I spend most of my mornings at the Germantown Centre gigglings and laughing with people (when I'm not groaning, moaning and complaining while working out). She also figured out I have no kids - I gather that someone must have mentioned it to her (like someone has got this insane rumor out that I am a nurse lol). But just as when we were talking about the no-kid syndrome and she let me know that she, too, has no kids, and is thrilled about it... she started going on about her five miscarriages that two were some form of tubular pregnancies. She told me to tell ALL men (ok, I'm married I don't know who else I would be telling) that a man can bump and grind and do all the loving he wants but do not 'drop' a baby in us! Before I knew what was going on, Aunt Jemima, low and behold, was showing me what to do if a man 'drops it' in you. Hey, don't kill the messenger, I'm only quoting! Omg I swear, she was sitting on the toilet and giving me all sorts of sound affects, I kid you not, like she's squeezing what the guy 'dropped' in her out! No, she did not pull down her pants but omg that was traumatic enough! I guess Aunt Jemima must be a little deaf because she's loud! With her booming tenor voice plus the confined space of the three-cubicle toilet's echoe, I myself was going deaf and dumber by the minute.

I didn't know how to get out of it... I even had one hand on one door and checking my time (pretending like I had somewhere, anywhere, to go). But Aunt Jemima went on. Omg did she go on... she went on to tell me how she told her dead husband she would kill him if she'd gotten her pregnant (I wonder who got her the 5 miscarriages those times) and how she would not kill him with her fist, a knife or an axe but with a pistol! No I'm not making any of this up! Just go ask Sean the receptionist who was in tears by the time I walked out of the toilet.

Too much information Aunt Jemima! Waaaayyy too much!! Can't say it wasn't funny though.