Published by PaintingChef on 04 Nov 2009
“Hey man… what’s with the facial scruff? You’re kind of hairy!”
“I TOLD you on Saturday. I’m observing No-Shave November.”
“Really.”
“Well, I’m leaving my options open.”
“This should be fun. Hey… maybe I’ll observe it with you. What do you think about that? Wouldn’t that be fun and festive?”
“You ruin everything.”
“I’m your wife… it’s my job.”
Published by PaintingChef on 08 Sep 2008
Friday Night… 10:30-ish…
“Hey. When your dad comes over in the morning? If I’m still in bed? You cannot come bring him in here and show him where the wall cracked. The bedroom will be off limits. Agreed?”
“Absolutely. I promise.”
(I promise you… this is not going where you think it is…)
Saturday Morning… 9:30-ish…
“Hey sweetheart. Good morning. Can I bring you some coffee?”
“You’re speaking to me? Does that mean it was all a dream?”
“We’ve talked about this Susannah. No crack before bed. It never works out well.”
“No. Seriously. You mean that you DIDN’T bring your dad in here about an hour ago, I DIDN’T growl like the little spinny-headed green-pukey girl from Poltergeist for you to both get out and when you tried to hug me and apologize, I DIDN’T bit the back of your neck vampire-style?”
“Yeah… no. None of that happened.”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.”
Published by PaintingChef on 27 Apr 2008
“So what I’m looking for is something for like parched hair. Or ‘so dry it might be a fire hazard hair.’”
“I’m not seeing anything like that.”
“Well not down THERE you aren’t. That’s the cheap shampoo and conditioner. You need to come up here and stand by me with the good stuff. It’s better because it costs more. And has a funnier name.”
“I cannot tell you how many things I find disturbing about that statement.”
“Look. You agreed to come grocery shopping with me. So buck up and help. I only wash my hair like twice a week so I don’t feel guilty spending thirty bucks on shampoo and conditioner. You came to terms with that a long time ago. Are you going to help me find some or not?”
“How exactly did I come to terms with that?”
“By not saying anything about it.”
“I never knew!”
“So not my fault…”
“I’m leaving. I have a sudden need to stand by the beer. And maybe the charcoal.”
“Wait!! Smell this one before you go? Do you think it smells pretty?”
“That’s it woman! We are going to Home Depot next.”
“Oh good… can we look at flowers?”
Published by PaintingChef on 05 Feb 2008
Can we talk about Starbucks for a second? Yes. I know. I swore off of them ages ago but I’m not very good at the boycott. And sometimes a girl just needs a big, delicious Passion Tea.
But I think the world is divided right down the middle. Female-Male? No. Democrat-Republican? Guess again. George Bush and everyone else? Well… yes. But not in this example. No, I’m talking about those of us who are capable of placing an order at Starbucks and those who just… can’t.
Observe…
“I’m heading back to the office, would you like anything?” (This line, for future reference, will be known as Exhibit A when you say ask why I didn’t just get it my damn self)
“Yes, thank you. Can you go to Starbucks and get me a venti shaken passion tea?”
“Whatever happened to water? Or a coke?”
“It’s not that hard. Repeat that exact phrase and don’t act like you’ve been sent on a quest for the lost city of Atlantis and you should be fine.”
“Whatever. I’ll call you back when I get confused.”
And do I now have a venti shaken passion tea? No. I have some iced chai herbal something or other that tastes like a dirty hippie and is not putting the full assault on my sweet tooth like a passion tea should. But can I be mad? Not outwardly. Do I think it is your fault that the order is wrong… yes. And here is why…
I think that when one of these non-Starbucks (or coffee house in general) speaking people comes up to the counter all sweaty, nervous and shaking like a teenage boy on his first date, the eyes of the baristas light up. “Someone to mess with!” they are thinking. And by acting all unsure and placing an order like you are just repeating something in Swahili that someone has written phonetically on a cocktail napkin, you are bringing this wrong order business on yourself. Stand up straight! Take charge! Be confident! Because by god… that’s MY latte that you are begging them to spit in.
Published by PaintingChef on 18 Apr 2007
“The internet totally thinks you should get me TiVo.”
“Did they also tell you to get a paper route?”
“Patrick please. The internet is environmentally friendly. Al Gore made it that way. Its a paperless operation. The internet scoffs at your paper route.”
“Well tell the internet that we just bought a grown-up camera and because of that purchase, little luxuries like TiVos and running water will just have to wait.”
“Oh sure. Why don’t I just tell the internet they are wrong and stupid while I’m at it? Would that make you happy? WOULD THAT MAKE YOU LOVE ME?”
“Hey… they’re YOUR friends.”
