Meeting Minutes of The Lunch Ones: The VD Edition

You know those top secret government papers that get released sometimes, only there are so many black bars censoring words that you can only see, like, three “ands” and a “the”? That’s what today’s meeting minutes would look like if the government released reports on The Lunch Ladies’ post-Valentine’s Day conversation. Here are the printable, key pieces:

TxO: Has anyone asked TxO  about her Valentine's day?
TxO: No. But I hope it sucked.
TxO: Why?
TxO: Because she’s going to marry my brother.
TxO: Why? Should we ask her? Where is she? (gasp) Did she get laid?!
TxO: Bet so. Taking bets.
TxO: I say YES... absolutely. Wait, what? Has she ever even met your brother?
TxO: Don’t say “get laid.” That sounds crass. Say "got some nookie."
TxO: There are leftovers of a giant cookie in the break room. (TxO gets easily distracted. TxO would also never eat even a small piece of a giant cookie.)

(Conversation halts while TxO bolts to the break room. She returns presently with hot pink icing smeared on her chin.)

TxO: So. We think yes, definitely laid?
TxO: Don’t say laid.
TxO-in-question (appearing just in time for that gem): You girls are dirty. And I’m eating cookie. Which also sounds dirty. Did you know there’s a giant cookie in the break room?

(Conversation halts again while TxO bolts for round two of giant cookie.)

TxO: Sooo??!!
TxO: Spill it.
TxO: What the hell are you guys talking about? (TxO and TxO fill TxO in on the wager about her Valentine’s Day night.)

(A moment of quiet.)

TxO: How about those (fill in fave sports team here)?
TxO: I KNEW it!
TxO (the one with the brother, wailing): No!!!
TxO: Yes!! You go, girl.
TxO: NO! Wait, did you seriously just say “you go girl?”
TxO: Wow. To all of that. Wow.
TxO: Talk. Details. How was it?
TxO: Shit. Now I'll have to tell my brother you're not a virgin anymore.
TxO: Excuse me. I do not bone and tell.
TxO (sighing happily): This is way more entertaining than work.
TxO: I don’t have to tell you anything. And don’t you go telling him anything. Not that there’s anything to tell.
TxO: Oh yes you do. It’s Bone and Tell day.
TxO: Seriously, though. Did you play the skin flute??

(Pause for dramatic effect, so everyone has a moment to fully embrace that the term “The Skin Flute” has now entered our vernacular.)

TxO (clearly tickled at herself for introducing a new naughty word): Ooh, I'm telling my brother you have mad skin-flute-playing skills.
TxO: Uh, more like the skin-fucking-clarinet, if you know what I'm saying.
TxO: What a weird thing to get competitive about.
TxO: Really, TxO? Do you and your brother talk about that stuff?
TxO: Yes?
TxO: Awesome. Mind if I start calling you Angelina Jolie and her weird blonde brother?
TxO (defensively): Well, mostly I talk and he laughs.
TxO: Have you guys made out?
TxO: You guys suck. Sorry I love my brother.
TxO: No, that’s cool. Just don’t, like, love your brother.
TxO: (Sings brother’s name over and over and over again.)
TxO: (And some more.)
TxO: Make it stop.
TxO: (And one more time.)

(Conversation halts while TxO and TxO’s boss walks down TxO and TxO’s aisle.)

TxO: Busted. Too much bi-aisle giggling.

(Conversation halts while TxO goes back for round three of the giant cookie. Comes back singing, “I Did It All For The Cookie. The Cookie.” When asked if there’s any left, explains that no, there’s not, because she grabbed the whole thing then ran furtively from the break room.)

TxO: Can you write a blog about this?
TxO: I’m not sure how to unleash the term "skin flute" onto my poor readers.
TxO (clearly unhappy with the irregular blogging schedule I vigilantly don’t stick to): You don’t have readers IF YOU DONT HAVE ANYTHING TO READ.
TxO:  Always keep ‘em wanting more, TxO. Words to live by.
TxO: Oh. I’m more of a “spread it and forget it” girl.

(Conversation halts while we all pray for TxO’s soul.)

TxO: Anyway. My bun is so bad today.
TxO: I think your post-nookie bun looks great!
TxO: Thanks TxO. I took the literal approach to sexy bed head.
TxO: Jesus.
TxO: TxO has bun envy.
TxO: It's pretty neat for bed head. You must be a conservative lover. Unlike my hubby and me, who managed to lose his wedding ring during our Valentine’s Day nookie.
TxO: Ask her where they found it...
TxO: If I were a guy, I'd totally do you.
TxO: God, I normally leave (enter boyfriend’s name here) looking like Amy Winehouse.
TxO: Christ on a crutch.

(Conversation halts while we all pray for TxO’s soul. Again. It’s obviously not working.)