Bennett's Smut 'n' Eggs and Hash

Multiple monitors broadcasting hard-core porn. Eggs "Bennett-Dick". What says Sunday morning like watching some chick take it in the can while you eat breakfast with a dozen of your closest friends? Welcome to Bennett's Smut 'n' Eggs.

Shortly after I moved to Madison, I heard about this phenomenon that is Bennett's. I'm not a big porn fan—the pros have an amazing talent for making sex look about as exciting as white paint. But I love odd juxtapositions, and it just doesn't get much odder than going with a group to watch porn at a bar that serves breakfast. Two years ago I went with about 10 people from my biking group, the teacher among us wearing a disguise of binocular glasses and praying she didn't see any of her students' parents. (This alone I found hilarious and worth the trip. "Gina, if their parents are here, how could they possibly make an issue about YOU being here?" Well, I suppose they could. Welcome to American education and family values.)

I hadn't been back since, and it seemed high time to have a Hash (the drinking club with the running problem) outing here. So we agreed on the Sunday after the Hash Christmas party.

Probably a dozen Hashers ultimately showed up, some an hour and ahalf past the appointed time. They said they got lost, but maybe they had the good sense to make sex at home rather than punctuality for porn their priority. We all had fun drinking coffee and alcohol with not-bad breakfast selections, and making fun of the porn scenes while discussing the antics of the Hashmas party.

THEN... the midget sex started. It was always a midget (okay, a "small person"—but when you're at Bennett's with a buncha Hashers, political correctness is an even lower priority than punctuality) with a "normal"-sized person. But since when were 36-DD breasts considered normal-sized? It started out with a male midget and the DD-chick. The comments from our table became increasingly rude and raucous. MilkBoneher started a Top Ten List for the Hash newsletter on Reasons to Have Sex With a Midget, and we all happily and loudly contributed. The midget dude and DD-chick did each other several different ways, and then the film switched to a midget-chick who had a haunting resemblance to Madonna. She was teamed up with 12-inch dude of otherwise normal proportions. (One top reason the guys cited for having sex with a midget: your cock looks huge in her tiny hands.) The comments from our table continued to roll out with accelerated hilarity. Finally someone observed that Hashers were capable of embarrassing even the clientele of Bennett's Smut 'n' Eggs. It was a proud moment. Life is good.

Integration in Theory Only

Today at work we had a free lunch. It was the big Christmas shindig with Rural Insurance, which owns our office building and occupies two-thirds of it. They are a conservative lot, and most of them look like 80's throwbacks.

Esker employees, being of a French-based company that was originally a Madison hippie-based company and still maintaining a basic dress code of "clothes are not optional", are a major contrast to Rural folk in every sense of the word. The women from Rural often look at me as though they are praying for my soul. (Today it's the black blazer over a plaid pleated skirt that's only a couple inches below my butt, with black tights & Mary Janes... Catholic schoolgirl meets naughty elf.)

At this exercise in shared holiday conviviality, all the Esker people sat at tables together, and all the Rural Insurance people sat at tables together, proving that socially not much changes after junior high. Except not all the boys and girls were segregated on opposite sides of the room.

After the barbershop quartet performed two numbers, my fear of more to follow propelled me to my car where I played heavy metal at high volume. I think my senses have now re-established equilibrium.