I have a story for you, but there are two things you should know first.

(1) I hate redundant language. I hate it when people say “tuna fish”, or “PIN number”, for example. What used to bother me most of all, though, was when people said “ATM machine”. I mean come on, really? “Automatic Teller Machine Machine”? Ick.

But being the optimist that I am, I’ve come to understand that when people say “ATM machine”, I should give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they wouldn’t purposely utter something so idiotically redundant as “Automatic Teller Machine Machine”. If you’ve been to the websites I’ve visited, then you’d know that ATM can also stand for “Ass-To-Mouth.” Let’s just say in my world, when somebody tells me they’re going to the “ATM machine”, I’m always caught breathless by the shameless depravity of it all. Secretly, I’m also a little bitter that my bank doesn’t offer the same generous service at their own numerous locations.

By the way, Diana finds it really irritating when I refer to “Ass-To-Mouth Machines” in everyday conversation.

(2) Recently one night, Diana asked me to lend her some cash. I didn’t have enough in my wallet, and so I ended up driving to the local bank to make a withdrawal from the ATM.

So that’s where my story begins. I came home, handed Diana the cash, and told her that she’d better appreciate what I’d done for her, because I had just been mugged. She seemed oddly unmoved. Unperturbed by Diana’s cold silence, I pressed on with the full account:

It was dark when I got to the ATM, and I was all alone. So I thought, anyway. I had just inserted my card and punched in my PIN when this big dude with a knife came out of nowhere and pinned me to the wall near the ATM.

“Well, well,” he said, “Here we are at the Ass-To-Mouth machine. Hey boy, do you like ATM?”

I said to him, “Just to be clear, when you say ‘ATM’, you mean ‘ass-to-mouth’, right?”

“Of course, boy, what else could I have meant?”

“Oh.” I said. “Well then, no.”

Then the dude seemed really disappointed and lowered his knife a bit and said, “Oh, that’s too bad. Because I had a real hankering for somebody to fuck me in the ass and to put it in my mouth afterward.”

I realized then that I had misunderstood his intentions. He wanted me to play pitcher, not receiver. I kind of felt bad for the guy, so I ended up fucking him in the ass and going ATM near the finish. You’d think the dude would have walked away happy after that. But the thing is, after we were done, he stole my money anyway, and I had to withdraw more cash before coming home.

It was the strangest mugging ever.

Not one single laugh from Diana. She just continued to stare at me until I left the room. Why do I waste all of my good material on her?