Quondam

June 2013
M T W T F S S
« May   Jul »
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930

Head-cock

I broach a subject with Mark about which I am feeling vulnerable.

Mark immediately rises to the occasion by saying something insensitive.

I cock my head, which is a clear sign that I am annoyed, “What did you just say?”

Mark repeats the insensitive thing in a slightly louder and clearer voice, as though the issue is my hearing.

Head still tilted, I glare at him, “Never mind.”

He looks at me, “What? Why?  I hate when you do that.”

“Better to end the conversation than continue with you being all rude and insensitive.”

“What? I was just talking. How can you get mad at me for talking?”

“That is perhaps one of the dumbest things you have ever said. Most of the times I am mad at you, words that have come out of your mouth are a huge part of the problem.”

Mark pauses to consider this stunning bit of news, “Well, that’s ridiculous.”

“Whatever.” I settle in on the couch in front of the TV, “Just start the show.”

He sits on the chair beside me and says, “Awww, come on. I want to know what you were going to say,” but as he says these words, he picks up the remote control and starts scanning through the possible viewing choices, “Knowing is important to me.”

I glare at his profile, “Well, then you are going to be devastated by the unknowing that is to come.”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Never mind.”

He rests the remote control on the arm of the chair and turns to look at me, “I hate when you do this. Maybe I said something stupid, I don’t know. I hate when you make me walk on eggshells.”

Now I am furious, “OK, first? There is no maybe about it – you said something stupid.”

“Fine. Pretty sure I was just talking, but fine.”

“Stop saying that! Stop acting as though there is no possible way for you to have annoyed or offended me because you were just talking. That makes no sense.”

He stares at me without speaking.

I continue, “And the eggshell thing? Take that back. That is so infuriating. You do not walk on eggshells around me. I would so notice if you ever walked on eggshells around me.”

He continues to say nothing.

“Name one time,” I challenge him, “Name one time when you were going to say something but then thought better of it and did not in fact say the something. Name one time.”

He continues to say nothing (which, looking back, is pretty fucking funny, but I did not pause in the moment to see the humor).

“Mark, I’m thinking you don’t understand the meaning of the phrase. I’m thinking you misunderstand the metaphorical picture that walking on eggshells is supposed to paint for the listener. I’m thinking you spoke without thinking . . . again.”

Mark remains silent (honestly, Mark is a riot when he is not filling me with rage).

I am on a roll now, “Because guess what, babe? Walking on eggshells implies a certain level of care and caution to ensure that one does not break the eggshells on which one is walking. However, if you look down, I think you will agree that the path you are traveling is just a mass of crushed-up eggshells, smashed and ruined beneath your careless stomping feet.”

He sighs, and still without saying anything, he gets up out of his chair to go pour himself a beer. When he returns, he settles back in his chair and picks up the remote control, “Any chance you are done pointing out how stupid I am?”

I sink into the couch and sulk, “Never mind.  Just turn on the show.”

He pauses and then turns to me, “I really wasn’t trying to make you mad. I was just saying that . . .”

And then he says the insensitive thing again.

I am livid. “Mark, what the fuck is wrong with you? Stop talking to me.”

He takes a sip of his beer, considers, “Did I say eggshells before? I meant landmines. I meant I hate it when you make me walk on landmines.”

Which is of course a different (and more accurate) metaphor, and so it is now my turn to say nothing.

He takes another sip of beer, “Glad we got that settled. I do like to choose my words carefully.”

I leap into this opening, “Like last night?”

He is immediately on guard, “What about last night?”

“Last night when you were explaining to me that you still have a bit of a cold. Last night when you were trying to impress me with your deep sexy cold-voice. Remember?”

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “I remember there was laughing.”

“And then you were all sad because I refused to succumb to your deep-voiced charms, and then you said . . .”

He interrupts me, “Never mind, I know what I said.”

“And then you said . . . Fine, I’ll just sit here alone and deep-throat myself.

Mark blushes (again), “I meant I would talk to myself!”

I giggle happily, “You crack me up.”

“I chose the wrong words . . . oh wait . . . maybe I chose the right words and I was just being subtle.”

“Your definition of subtle encompasses a declaration that you are about to deep-throat yourself?”

He’s all flustered, “Shut up.”

I giggle.

He picks up the remote control again, “So we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Turn on the show. We’ll talk later.”

He clicks play, “OK, because I don’t know why you have to take everything so personally. All I said was . . .”

And then he says the insensitive thing again.

What . . . the . . . fuck?

Also?

BOOM

    22 comments to Head-cock

    • It’s called marriage.

    • Tammy Proctor

      Oh god. Men and their mouths. I love my man, but he has this bad habit of continuing to talk when BOOM all around him and he is just clueless. But I still love him. Haven’t married him yet cause the thought scares me shitless, but still. I sympathize. And know it’s ok.

      • Oh, babe. Mark and I have been together for 27 years. We’re good.

        We’re good and then some.

        Marriage? It is amazing.

        Me

        • Tammy Proctor

          I was married for 11 years to an asshat moron. This time around I’m very cautious. We’ve been living together four years. I’ll get there. I already know that these four years have been better than any of the first mistake. We met on Pi day so tentatively planning on a 3/14/15 wedding.

          • OK, you know that’s my birthday, correct?

            I will turn 49 on that day . . . a very auspicious day, I am thinking.

            Because it’s all about me.

            YES IT IS.

            Hmmph.

            • Tammy Proctor

              That is an amazing day for a birthday and a wedding I think. My nerdy self loves that it will be the number of Pi.

              • Speaking of nerdy selves . . . did I mention that on my birthday a few months ago, Kallan wrote out the first 1000 digits of Pi on my card?

                Love that girl.

                • Tammy Proctor

                  I love that. That would make me so proud.
                  We want to serve pizza and pie at the reception and we considered renting the local drive in theatre and playing Life of Pi, other than the first few minutes its a bit depressing. Could we BE bigger dorks? Also not sure how this turned into a Pi discussion. Sorry I jacked your comments.

    • If you women would stop getting mad at us men for JUST TALKING, we could stop walking on eggshells and landmines. We we would really appreciate that. (I got your back, Mark. Except for the “deep-throat myself” thing. You are on your own with that).

    • Jessica

      Landmines indeed. I place mine very carefully.

      Also? Mark sounds like Tobias with his deep-throat comment. Do you watch Arrested Development?

    • ANUSTART.

      Yes, we’ve seen that show.

      Hee hee.

    • a snowsprite

      I have to say that would be pretty impressive.
      Bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

    • liz

      This has nothing to do with this post but i felt the need to tell you the following :we moved to Montana from Ga and today i bought otter pops at walmart and immediately thought of you! Somehow your writing is meshed into my subconscious!