What my coworkers said about Steve Irwin

This morning, I overheard a couple of my male coworkers talking about the death of Steve Irwin. One is about 23; the other is in his early thirties. As I came into my office, the 23 year old was saying, "I mean, I'm sorry, but that's why you don't go near wild animals."

The other guy sounded a bit hesitant, as if he were a soft-hearted bouncer at the gates of heaven. (These two coworkers seem to have a good cop/bad cop routine worked out in routing dead celebrities.) "Well, I'm no expert on stingrays..."

"My aunt's neighbor got stung by one. On the foot."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He had to go to the hospital."

"Wow. Was it painful?"

"Hell, yeah. And you know what he said? He said it was his own damn fault."

My 23 year old coworker would forgive any sin, it seems, except for a lapse in judgement. He clings to his good judgement like a devout Catholic clings to her beads. "I can tell you, you won't see me going anywhere near a stingray. Or anything else that wants to kill me."

I couldn't help but wonder why he goes to the vending machine so often; he's gained at least forty pounds in the last year. Except for his Mustang (which he has yet to buy -- he's going to trade in his Acura), he's a man who prides himself on taking no risks. Once when the other guy said he was going to Vegas and suggested he come along, he said, "I don't gamble."

"Why not? It's fun. Vegas is a trip."

"Huh. I really can't understand what people see in it. You're just giving away your money."

"But dude, it's Vegas! You have to try it at least once. You know, a weekend away from the old lady." (The 30-something coworker emphasized 'old lady', as if he were quoting someone else...probably his father, who when he died left his son a slew of old idioms, such as 'it never rains but it pours.')

"No way, man. I'm buying an HD TV. I want something for my money."