"How big your thing?"

No, that sentence is not missing a word. I'd like to introduce you to Linda. Linda is a woman I work with. She's been doing the same job for anywhere from 20 to 30 years, depending on whom you talk to. Her parents are from China, but she was born in Brooklyn. Her accent, however, is 0% Crooklyn and 100% Chinese. She is not very good at being descriptive. When she saw me approaching my desk after my enjoyable lunch-walk with Marissa, she hit me with "How big your thing?". Now, I've been sitting next to this person every business day since Februay of last year. I know that there's a 30% chance that she's referring to something we've talked about as recently as the last few days, a 69% chance that she's come up with something from out in the left fucking field bleachers, and a 1% chance that she's asking me about the size of my penis. I don't dare ask, though. Because she is not very tolerant of people not understanding what she's talking about. I think she has an insecurity over her completely over the top and sort of unreasonable for an American born person's accent. I digress. Taking my chances with the 30% gamble that she's referring to something we've spoken about recently.. I consider our last few day's worth of conversations: bird flu (she's obsessed, but more on that some other time), she doesn't understand why people like soccer, baseball is boring, she bought a new computer, windows me is the best operating system ever invented, burning CDs that you don't own isn't illegal because software companies make software that physically allows you to do so, and her crazy ideas about why some of our shared drives keep disappearing (they're monitoring our pc activities, she claims). I figure she's talking computers with me, so I opt to respond wth "300 gigabytes", the size of my hard drive.

"300 gigabyte of ram fo yo email inbox daz cwazee. How you do dat?"

Doh. I was close with the computer angle, but she was asking me how large our company allows my inbox to be. Right category, wrong answer. The correct answer would have been 72 megabytes. Before I get a chance to explain that, though, we're (thankfully) interrupted by a phone call from her kids screaming. I don't blame them, both her and her husband work 9 hour days and spend 4 hours commuting each day so that they can have a relatively large house out in the middle of nofuckingwheresville, nj. Had we not been interrupted this conversation would have gone on for about 30 minutes before we'd both be on the same page.

I guess I should've figured it would be a sort of random statement... but I wonder how she would've responded had I answered "11 delicious inches, baby".
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I went on a completely worthless job interview yesterday.