We hardly ever watch network TV in our house, but we have been watching the Olympics since they have been on. I guess the Olympic-watching crowd is mostly single because I have been overwhelmed by the number of match.com and eharmony.com commercials that come on. Every time one of these commercials comes on, I think, “I’m so glad that I don’t have to date anymore.”
Matt tells me that I am the worst dater that he has ever met. He says that he didn’t like me the first, second or third time that he met me. On our first official date, I remembered that I had a prescription that I had to pick up before the pharmacy closed. I thought that I was being extremely flexible when I told him that I had to go to the drugstore so we could (1) go together, (2) I could go and he could wait for me at the restaurant or (3) we could call the evening done and talk later. Matt has said that it wasn’t being flexible, it was being the worst date ever. (By the way, he opted to go with me to the drugstore. I told him that I could have bought a bunch of yeast infection medicine and foot fungus treatment and then he could call it the worst date ever.)
My bad dating skills aren’t the worst around. Recently, we had a girls’ weekend at my mom’s house with my mom, aunts and cousins. During the course of the night, my Aunt Margo told the story about going on a double date with her ex-husband (her boyfriend at the time) and another couple back when they were all in high school. I can’t remember the names of the other couple, and it really doesn’t matter, but the story goes that as they were driving through town the other girl yelled, “Stop the car! I gotta shit!”
Even as I laughed, all I could do was think a couple of things. First, I was surprised that the teenagers of what I’ve always thought of as my mom’s squeaky clean background would use the word “shit”. Then I kept wondering why the girl (let’s call her Jane Doe), why Jane Doe would think that it would be okay to just yell out “I gotta shit”. Did she grow up in one of those houses where talking about that was normal? Like “I’m thirsty” or “I’m hungry”? I’ve never been in a house like that, but surely they exist. Or maybe she was trying to turn off her date? I guess we’ll never know.
Then my Aunt Bobbie piped up and told us about one time when she was out on a double date. My Aunt Bobbie worked at the hospital for 30+ years and was working there as a young woman during the time of the story. She and her companions were out on their date when she realized that she needed to check on a patient that might be released. She said to them, “We need to run by the hospital so I can check to see if I have a discharge.”
I laughed even harder at this story because this would So. Totally. Happen. to me. I misunderstand people and they misunderstand me all the time. Just word choice, I guess, and where your head is and their head is. Like recently, I had to have a colonoscopy. Which means drinking this nasty stuff called “movi-prep” the night before. The next day before the procedure, the nurse asked, “Did you get clean from the movi-prep?” And I said, “Yes, I took a shower this morning, so I don’t have any on me.” She said, “No, are you cleaned out?” Oh, yeah, that too.
And I just realized that my story and my Aunt Margo’s story both come back to poo. Maybe I do know one of those households and it’s mine.