Dating is like drinking whiskey. It’s fun, but you may end up on the bathroom floor at 3am, crying and swearing you’ll never do it again.
One minute you’re totally in love with your soulmate. The next minute, you’re hoping he or she will choke on a Brussels sprout and save you both the agony of staying together or the suffering as a result of ending it.
Have you ever wanted to smack a boyfriend or girlfriend for breathing, one who only days ago you thought was complete awesomeness? I have. I’ve wanted to smack a girlfriend for chewing, too.
That’s okay, togetherness can be tiring. I’m certain that I’ve snored my way out of more than one relationship, and then there’s my teeth grinding thing. It’s like sleeping next to a woodchuck.
I’m writing this in a pizza shop and there’s a toddler yelling, “eat my nuts” over and over again. His father just asked him, “how angry do you need to make me before you stop?”
As I Google vasectomies on my iPhone, I wonder about this young dad.
Was this actually his fantasy? Did he even know this was coming? Where is his wife?
Did he pay enough attention to her bra?
I can never tell the difference between the expensive bras and the cheap ones. Though, there is a distinct difference between the new looking we-just-started-doing-it-bra and the I’ve-been-your-girlfriend-for-over-a-year-bra. The latter is a tattered nasty thing with tiny threads hanging off of it, maybe a random wire poking at you. It’s also probably tan.
The tan gnarled bra comes out after making an impression is no longer important. This is about two weeks from Brussels sprouts and snoring. I want to ask him how long from Brussels sprouts till “eat my nuts!” but I don’t.
Is he a sucker? Maybe.
I like to think he’s just a guy who’s found the beauty in this, gnarled bra and all.