Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I can see it now.
GF Happy birthday, baby.
ME Wow, you shouldn't have.
I unwrap present. Inside box is the "Duoped".
ME Wow, really you shouldn't have. Um...what is it?
GF It's a "Duoped".
ME Yeah, I see. Um...
GF Well, go on, get on it!
ME Um, what?...
I try to get on it in our living room. The rug impedes any movement. I fall.
GF Not here, silly! Outside in the street!
ME In the street? In Brooklyn? Outside? By the gang headquarters?
GF Stop being silly! Now go outside and give it a whirl.
I head outside with the GF in tow. I try to mount the Duoped. I fall off, stumble and catch myself on a light pole.
GF I don't think you're doing it right. You're peddling too hard.
I try again. I fall off, twist my ankle and scrape my palms on the tar just like in grade school recess. I'm feeling pretty awesome at this point.
GF Be careful, you're going to break it.
ME Babe, maybe I should do this later.
ME Babe, I'm bleeding.
GF This is what the therapist talks about. Your fear of commitment.
ME Babe, I just don't want to get hurt, here.
GF Five years? We've been engaged for five year. Five years?
ME Okay, okay. I'll figure it out.
I get back on the death-machine. I manage to peddle one successful revolution and stay upright. This leads to more revolutions and a choppy, barely manageable forward motion. She claps.
I stop, beaming like a jackass because I think I've made it through the fire.
GF Okay, we need eggs from the store.
I try to hand her the duoped. She looks at it like its a dead cat.
GF No, ride over to the store. It's getting late, it'll be quicker.
ME But, Babe, it's downhill to the store.
GF I know the store is downhill. The ride back up will be good exercise.
ME But babe, I'm going to eat shit on the way down. The only way I'm getting back up that hill is in an ambulance.
GF Why do you have to swear? Why do you always have to turn it ugly?
ME I'm just trying to say that I'm going to get hurt.
GF You don't like the duoped.
ME That's not true. I...I really love the duoped.
She stares at me suspiciously. She's practically looking right through my eyes into my soul. She knows I'm lying. All I want to do is take the fucking duoped and shove it up the ass of whomever invented it.
ME Babe, I'm just worried that all you're going to get is a bunch of broken eggs.
GF So, that's what this is all about? You think I'd be an unfit mother?
Posted by jonzak at 10:01 AM