So I was working at Carrburritos the other day and this regular came in for dinner. I adore the hell out of him. He is very stylish, very loud, very flamboyantly gay, very nice, and the combination of his sibilant “s” and his adult lisp makes his pronunciation of his favorite word, “shenanigans,” very hilarious and endearing. I basically feel the same way about adult lisps as I do seeing 40-year-olds with a mouth full of braces or a plush couch on someone’s front porch.
The underutilization of speech therapists, Invisalign, and indoor living rooms aside, this guy will come in and exploit the Carrburritos ordering process in order to facilitate the inappropriate use of his favorite word as many times as he possibly can. Our exchanges go something like this:
“Hey, Ryan, I’ll be right with you.”
“Oookay. . .be right back.” (a few seconds later) “Okay what can I get ya?”
“Mejor Beef Burrito and don’t forget my chipotle salsa or it’s sheNANiganths for you, missy!”
“Um. Cool. What are you drinking?”
“I call shenaniganths! Water is fine! No, a coke!”
“No margaritas today?”
You get the idea. He just loves it. And it’s even funnier when he’s screaming it out across the restaurant while he sports his metallic all-over tribal-print fitted t-shirts and his grill lenses and his very verbal affinity for bois, bois, bois.
I HAVE to tell myself it’s hysterical, otherwise it would bother the FUCK out of me. Know what I mean?
So anyway, one night he came in and started his Malapropists United convention right there in line and I decided to join in a bit so I wouldn’t start crying out of frustration that he never uses the word correctly. He had already said it three times, and his boyfriend and I were talking about, well, cute boys, because that’s all we CAN talk about, and I said, “Oh I have this really cute friend who-” and then I was interrupted with a resounding, “I CALL SHENANIGANTHS!!!!” Now that he had four inappropriate usages under his pink studded belt, I decided to make my move. His boyfriend took his salsa from me and said, “Remind me of your name again, love?”
And I said, while resisting a major urge to laugh uncontrollably at my own ingenuity, “Oh, sure, it’s Shannon. Shannon Egan.”
Ryan looked up from his wallet and said, completely seriously, “Oh shit, and this whole time I thought your name was Mandey!! I’m so sorry, honey!”
No one gets my jokes.