It’s been said:
“…the professor is heartless, which means: he doesn’t have a heart; which means: he’s not romantic…”
Now that is a truth right there, don’t you know, PF. A strong one.
Do you believe? *professorish eye*
Anyways and a few, I was at a wedding this past weekend. Which was a wonder.
It was a vegan wedding, which means they had all sorts of vegan things to eat.
Now, that might scare some of you, and it might delight others. And still, it might leave people wondering what this professor was doing there.
Well, I’m not going to tell you.
I was looking about like a well-meaning fellow (I was also in a white suit, it must be noted) when I saw the bride and groom seated by themselves enjoying a vegan dinner.
The professor approached and pulled up a chair.
They just stared at me, speechless. The white suit does that to people. So bright it leaves them dumfounded, see.
I broke the silence.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you two,” I said.
“Too late,” the bride said quickly, “we’ve been congratulated by nearly everyone here.”
“Astounding,” I answered. “I’m usually the first person to congratulate people on things like this.”
Then there was some silence.
Not the most speech-able people, see. And when there’s silence, one must make up things.
“So,” I began, “did you know there’s an epidemic passing through the bunny population?”
That got them.
The bride started. “No!”
Then, of course, I remembered this was a vegan wedding. Truly, the professor was trapped, dadblameit.
“Are you serious?” the groom said, staring hard at me.
Nothing for it but to go forward now.
This professor nodded. “It’s horrible.”
“What’s it do to the bunnies?” the bride asked.
“It starts in their feet,” I answered. “Turns them black. Then the ears fall off. After that, the heart shuts down.”
I must admit, I was proud of the disease. At least, it sounded realistic.
But the groom wasn’t happy. The bride was crying.
“I’m going to look this up on my phone,” he said, pulling the dadblame device from his pocket, “and if it’s not true…”
“I just remembered,” I said, the sudden, “that particular epidemic passed through 10 years ago.”
And I left.
Moral: Don’t tell bunny death stories at a vegan wedding.