Kris: “I thought that one part was a good example of a rape joke that didn’t make the victim into the punchline.”

Gene: “Oh?”

Kris: “Well, you know, because there’s been all that stuff in the media lately? About rape jokes and rape culture?”

Gene: “Rapists get their own culture?”

Kris: “No! You’ve never heard this phrase? It’s like…the idea that rape is just ingrained in our culture, to the point where we just take for granted that it’s a normal part of society and will happen to a certain percentage of people.”

Gene: “Like stealing and murder.”

Kris: “Well, no. I mean…obviously you have to have those things.”

Gene: “Yeah?”

Kris: “Look, I’m not explaining it right. Just do a search on ‘rape culture’ and you can read about it.”

Gene: “You know your anniversary went well when it ends with your wife recommending you learn about rape culture.”

Last night I dropped Gene off at his motorcycle which he had left parked at Orinda BART. I was sitting in the car while he rummaged around in the back seat to collect his gear when he handed me a spoon.

“This looks familiar,” he said.

I took the spoon. “Yeah, I guess this is one of ours,” I said. “It feels a little heavier to me. I wonder how long it’s been back there?” I felt the spoon all over, examining it, and then put it on my bag so I would remember to bring it inside and wash it, which it definitely needed.

“It’s weird that someone would just leave a spoon in a parking lot,” Gene said, and I sat blinking for a moment, processing this, before flinging the spoon out of the car.

“Did you just pick this up off the ground and hand it to me?” I demanded, frantically grabbing for my hand sanitizer.

“Yes,” Gene said, attempting to be innocent but already laughing. “What? Was that not okay?”

“I guess I’ve never explicitly said this. Let me do so now: please do not pick trash up off the ground that’s covered with the remnants of someone else’s meal and hand it to me.”

“And now I know that,” said Gene.

The worst prank ever.

Me: “Check it out, I found this in that box of my old toys.”

Gene: “What is it?”

Me: “Here, you can look at it.”

Gene: “A tiny pillow with a pocket on the front.” He sticks a finger in the pocket, as I knew he would. “What’s it for?”

Me: “When I was a kid I used to put my teeth in there for the tooth fairy.”

Gene: [Stands frozen, finger still in the pocket.]

Me: “I’m not sure it’s ever been washed.”

Gene: “GAH.”

He flings the pillow away and runs to the sink. I laugh and laugh.

The best prank ever.