*Warning: this post may contain nuts (and other genitals).*
It takes a lot to shock me. Just ask my wife.
Alex is an experienced midwife, who studied and trained for years to develop her skills and expertise in women’s health. And having known her for so long, I’m well placed to pinpoint the most important qualities you need to make it in that profession:
- a complete potty mouth
Midwives have absolutely no filter. None. When they’re not covered in bodily fluids at the business end of a delivery table, they’re crowding round a cup of tea sharing war stories of episiotomies and poo.
So after spending the past 10 years with Alex, I’m battle hardened. At the dinner table, our conversation runs seamlessly from mortgage rates to vernix to “pass the ketchup”, and I no longer choke on whatever I’m eating.
A few weeks ago, I jumped in the car to head to work. The radio came on, and the DJs were chatting about their weekend. I wasn’t paying attention at all to what they were saying. That is, until one of them casually dropped “Pearl Necklace” into the sentence.
Now, I can handle most things in the morning.
My day often starts around 6:30am, with a repeated finger jab to my cheek. It’s quickly followed by a child-sized stomp on my testicles, as one of the kids clambers over for a cuddle with Mummy. And then, after I’ve had a tantrum at the breakfast table because of the ongoing shortage of Weetabix in our house – I believe this is what divorcing couples cite as “irreconcilable differences” – I’m ready for anything.
Except a pearl necklace, apparently. And an anecdote about ball sweat. And fantasies about sexual encounters in the toilet.
It was like I was tuning into a live broadcast of my first year at University. Only with fewer dirty dishes.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. If ever this kind of filth was broadcasted in the UK, the DJ would get fired on the spot. Mind you, they’d end up with a magazine deal, a few reality show appearances and a coke problem, so every cloud and all…
Yet there was no apology from the broadcaster. No acceptance of responsibility. No commitment to keep it clean for the remainder of the segment. Nothing.
For the rest of my commute that morning, the DJs did their best to cover off pretty much every pre-8am taboo they could think of. Suspicious stains on the studio floor, snorting drugs off someone’s cleavage, lesbian tendencies, sex with flight attendants…
In hindsight, I don’t know why this took me by surprise. There were a couple of vital signs I missed that would have better set my expectations:
1. The radio station in question is called “The Bone“. I guess I should have taken some hints from the name alone.
2: The morning show is sponsored by a mattress company, Sleep Train. So the DJs are literally getting paid to talk about lying on their backs.
But here’s what I don’t get.
In America you have to say “Holidays” to prevent offending or alienating those who don’t celebrate Christmas.
In America it is an absolute no-no to double-dip your chip. And I suspect in Texas you could even get executed for it.
Yet, in America it’s totally fair game to talk about screwing your co-worker, live on the radio.
What I’m learning is that the US is a country of contradictions and extremes.
And with California going through a drought right now, they’re taking extreme measures to cut down on the use of water. I guess that means even the Watershed isn’t safe.
Piss (peace) out!