King of the Oogers

The following is a delightful conversation I was just involved in as a "sweet" little old man waddled into my office asking for my boss. (It's going to be a long day!)

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L-Dubb: Hi there! How can I help you?
Little Old Man: Is Andrew (my boss) here?
LD: He is. I'll let him know you're here and he'll be right with you.

*I get up, walk to Andrew's office, come back, and sit down*

LD: He'll be right up, he's just finishing up with a phone call.
LOM: Thank you, young lady!
LD: Of course!

*2 minutes elapse as LOM peruses the show room and Andrew drags his feet getting off the phone*

LOM: I noticed as you stood up that you're a very tall woman...did you play any basketball in school?

(Sidenote: The fastest way to exasperate me is to comment on my height and then ask if I played basketball. I did not. I don't have ANY coordination. Quit making assumptions and move on.)

LD: (awkward laughter) I am tall! No basketball in school...wasn't really my thing.
LOM: That's alright. You're pretty enough it doesn't matter.
LD: (even more awkward laughter) Thank you, sir.
LOM: I always told my wife that I loved tall women. She's not that tall, but I would just love to get my hands on a woman your size.

*Cue LOM wiggling his eyebrows at me* (Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.)

LD: (only able to utter one weak-hearted laugh...too ooged for more) Uhm, haha, uh, that's nice you like tall women.
LOM: (more eyebrow wiggling) Oh, I do.
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And with that, Andrew finally exits his office. I'm almost convinced he sat in there laughing at my plight with The Kind of the Oogers.

That's just d-freakin'-lightful.