I'll take clumsy, tin-eared banter for $200, Alex.
So this is happening. The Outward Bound-with-cows program has headed out on their little character-building cattle drive-incidentally, there's been no explanation of if the juvenile delinquents are paying for this delightful experience, or if this is some sort of New York City taxpayer-funded extravaganza-and right now the hero and heroine are trying to assemble their sleeping spaces at the campsite. They are...attempting to pitch their tents. Yes. Which is a phrase the author was diligently avoiding, perhaps because she knew it would give me one single second of amusement, and then this happened:
Maggie* smiled. "Everyone seems to be busy with their own tents, so let's work on yours, shall we?"
He grinned. "Thanks."
"No problem." She ran an index finger over the directions. "You appear to be on number two, letter c. 'Inserting the pole into the center.' See?"
Joe caught his breath, trying to corral his wayward, wandering thoughts.
"Extend main pole and place in position ready for insertion," she read.
His mouth went dry as he looked at Maggie.
"Extend the main pole and slide it into the main hub," Maggie continued.
He was feeling warm all over. Please, no more reading.
"Did you get that, Joe? Extend the main pole and slide it into the main hub."
She couldn't have read that, could she? Funny, when he was reading the directions, there was nothing sensual about them in the least.
He ran a finger around the inside of his collar [No, really, it actually says this.] for more air. "Yeah, I got it."
"Are you going to extend your pole...?"
"Read on down," he said curtly.
"Find another main pole and insert one end into the smooth opening on..."
Dammit. How long was this going to go on? His jeans were getting uncomfortable. "Read on down," he repeated.
"But-?"
"Skip that one, read on down."
"But Joe, we're skipping everything. We need to get together on this."
We need to get together.
He swallowed hard. "Let's forget this whole thing and see if Cookie needs some help," he said abruptly.
The editor's rather dry note at the beginning of all this nonsense: "This is not really appropriate banter-it's not suited to these two adults, and readers won't go for this."
*Apologies to all the Maggies in my life. You deserve better.
Maggie* smiled. "Everyone seems to be busy with their own tents, so let's work on yours, shall we?"
He grinned. "Thanks."
"No problem." She ran an index finger over the directions. "You appear to be on number two, letter c. 'Inserting the pole into the center.' See?"
Joe caught his breath, trying to corral his wayward, wandering thoughts.
"Extend main pole and place in position ready for insertion," she read.
His mouth went dry as he looked at Maggie.
"Extend the main pole and slide it into the main hub," Maggie continued.
He was feeling warm all over. Please, no more reading.
"Did you get that, Joe? Extend the main pole and slide it into the main hub."
She couldn't have read that, could she? Funny, when he was reading the directions, there was nothing sensual about them in the least.
He ran a finger around the inside of his collar [No, really, it actually says this.] for more air. "Yeah, I got it."
"Are you going to extend your pole...?"
"Read on down," he said curtly.
"Find another main pole and insert one end into the smooth opening on..."
Dammit. How long was this going to go on? His jeans were getting uncomfortable. "Read on down," he repeated.
"But-?"
"Skip that one, read on down."
"But Joe, we're skipping everything. We need to get together on this."
We need to get together.
He swallowed hard. "Let's forget this whole thing and see if Cookie needs some help," he said abruptly.
The editor's rather dry note at the beginning of all this nonsense: "This is not really appropriate banter-it's not suited to these two adults, and readers won't go for this."
*Apologies to all the Maggies in my life. You deserve better.