How low can you go...
I had an… interesting… afternoon, which I will now share, risking public embarrassment, for everyone’s amusement. Bear with me as I weave the story.
It all started at Seaspace, an annual convention for scuba diving and other adventure sports -- but mostly diving. I was browsing the various equipment and travel booths, when I noticed this drop dead gorgeous, cover-girl model young woman. Now, normally a young hottie like that wouldn’t give me all that much attention, so I didn’t make a big deal of it. However, she made a comment about a booth as I walked by, and I responded. Fast forward 30 minutes, and we were cruising the booths together talking about dive locations and such. She was definitely interested in me - talking about how nice it would be to have someone to dive with, holding my arm, etc. She was asking pre-date questions, like where do I like to eat out, what am I doing this evening, etc.
Then the other shoe drops. She asks me what I do for a living. And the descent into the Hell of Dumb Blondes…
“I’m a rocket scientist. I work at NASA.”
“They make… airplanes, right?”
Now, I am a pretty intelligent guy, but I’m not a snob about it. I figure if a woman can hold up her end of a normal conversation, I’m not going to complain about her inability to calculate geo-magnetic potential, or derive a dynamic Jacchia model of the atmosphere. Not many people do these things for a living, but that's okay. But I had never before faced such a gonad vs. frontal lobe dilemma before. Just how stupid is too stupid? To continue…
“Well, we design some experimental aircraft, but mostly it’s space vehicles.”
“Space vehicles?”
“Yes, vehicles to go into space.”
“Oh, airplanes.”
“Uh, no. Airplanes can only go so high. The air gets thin enough, and their wings won’t provide… never mind. Airplanes can’t go very high. That’s why you need rockets.”
“Oh, JET airplanes!”
“Uh…. no. Rocket ships. NOT airplanes.”
“So, that’s really high up?”
“?… Space? yeah, usually 100 miles and up is considered being in space. The International Space Station is about 200 miles up.”
“What’s that?”
“The international space station? Uh… it’s the space station being built by NASA and some other countries to experiment with living in space.”
“NASA? Don’t you work for them?”
“…yes.”
“So you live in space!”
“… nnnnno. I live in Clear Lake.”
“Oh. Have you been to Mars?”
“… nnnnnnnnno. No one’s been to Mars. Maybe someday.”
“But, who built the Mars Lander then?”
“… … … we did. Here on Earth. Then we sent to Mars on an air, er, jet, er SPACEship.”
“That’s really far away, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I went to Australia once. That’s really far away.”
“(help me please) Yes it is, but Mars is much much further.”
“No it isn’t! Australia is on the other side of the world! You can’t get further away than that!”
“... ... ... ... Oh look, there’s the men’s room! I’ll be right back!”
So there you have it. For me, extremely cute and sexy can only cancel out so much total idiocy. I have learned my limits.
It all started at Seaspace, an annual convention for scuba diving and other adventure sports -- but mostly diving. I was browsing the various equipment and travel booths, when I noticed this drop dead gorgeous, cover-girl model young woman. Now, normally a young hottie like that wouldn’t give me all that much attention, so I didn’t make a big deal of it. However, she made a comment about a booth as I walked by, and I responded. Fast forward 30 minutes, and we were cruising the booths together talking about dive locations and such. She was definitely interested in me - talking about how nice it would be to have someone to dive with, holding my arm, etc. She was asking pre-date questions, like where do I like to eat out, what am I doing this evening, etc.
Then the other shoe drops. She asks me what I do for a living. And the descent into the Hell of Dumb Blondes…
“I’m a rocket scientist. I work at NASA.”
“They make… airplanes, right?”
Now, I am a pretty intelligent guy, but I’m not a snob about it. I figure if a woman can hold up her end of a normal conversation, I’m not going to complain about her inability to calculate geo-magnetic potential, or derive a dynamic Jacchia model of the atmosphere. Not many people do these things for a living, but that's okay. But I had never before faced such a gonad vs. frontal lobe dilemma before. Just how stupid is too stupid? To continue…
“Well, we design some experimental aircraft, but mostly it’s space vehicles.”
“Space vehicles?”
“Yes, vehicles to go into space.”
“Oh, airplanes.”
“Uh, no. Airplanes can only go so high. The air gets thin enough, and their wings won’t provide… never mind. Airplanes can’t go very high. That’s why you need rockets.”
“Oh, JET airplanes!”
“Uh…. no. Rocket ships. NOT airplanes.”
“So, that’s really high up?”
“?… Space? yeah, usually 100 miles and up is considered being in space. The International Space Station is about 200 miles up.”
“What’s that?”
“The international space station? Uh… it’s the space station being built by NASA and some other countries to experiment with living in space.”
“NASA? Don’t you work for them?”
“…yes.”
“So you live in space!”
“… nnnnno. I live in Clear Lake.”
“Oh. Have you been to Mars?”
“… nnnnnnnnno. No one’s been to Mars. Maybe someday.”
“But, who built the Mars Lander then?”
“… … … we did. Here on Earth. Then we sent to Mars on an air, er, jet, er SPACEship.”
“That’s really far away, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I went to Australia once. That’s really far away.”
“(help me please) Yes it is, but Mars is much much further.”
“No it isn’t! Australia is on the other side of the world! You can’t get further away than that!”
“... ... ... ... Oh look, there’s the men’s room! I’ll be right back!”
So there you have it. For me, extremely cute and sexy can only cancel out so much total idiocy. I have learned my limits.