Dirty Jokes Told by Middle-Aged Women (on Accident)

Tonight I had fun at work. Well, I should say that I had fun part of the time. One of my fellow shelving pages is leaving the library to pursue . . . something, and we had a going away party for her. At the library it's a tradition for the person who is leaving to bring food for everyone else, and Jolene brought us cupcakes. As we ate, Marsha told us a story about a young boy she had seen at a department store recently. When his mother wasn't looking, the boy reached up and grabbed a mannequin's breasts and squeezed them, then he quickly walked away. Christine, my supervisor, said: "That reminds me of when Indiana Jones grabbed that statue's boobs in The Temple of Doom. He just wanted to get into her secret tunnel." We all noticed her unintentional female anatomical reference immediately. I began blushing like a third grader. My problem was that I thought that the slip was hilarious, but with three females present and only one other male in addition to myself, I didn't want to laugh too much. My withheld laughter manifested itself as watery eyes and a nice red skin color.