Deadpanning for Gold

During our last meeting of the day they were raving about the guy who was about to come on speakerphone and how he was young and smart and talented and sharp and whatnot so I quipped, “Wow — is he single?” And during the following couple of seconds of silence it occurred to me that I was in a conference room full of men who would only pretend to be gay if they cranked their faux-gayness up to such absurd, over-the-top extremes that no one would take them seriously. Whereas I said it in my usual tone of voice, because I’m a big believer in not modulating your tone at all, ever, and yes this is directed at you, Davis from down the hall who always turns up the volume whenever he’s making a joke, just in case we might miss it!

Like, for example, I’m at this college party with people I don’t particularly know and I’m drinking one of those horribly improvised college cocktails made of something like tequila and apple juice and Mountain Dew and vanilla extract and I say something like, “Yo this has got to be the worst thing I've ever put in my mouth. Other than my father’s dick.” The same deadpan and the same subsequent silence as people scanned me for any sign of sarcasm.