Monday, October 08, 2012

So, Two Drunk Guys Walk Out of a Bar...

Everything in our house is breaking. First, the slow-close hinge in my new bathroom vanity goes all poltergeist on me and explodes off the cabinet door in a fit of rage against the remodeling machine: “You will not have nice things!” Then the toilet downstairs stopped flushing. The flat-screen downstairs has been turning itself on and off, on and off since last week, unable to commit like so many of my old college boyfriends. J’s phone also keeps turning itself on and off, on and off—the tiny, fickle co-conspirator of its large-screened cousin.

Then yesterday, as I was drying my hair, my hairdryer died. It just went kaput, abandoning my hair to air-dry into a cold, crispy mop. J had been gone since the morning, watching football and playing darts and recharging his Testosterone levels. I can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s shopped at Target without me, but it was an emergency. So I called and begged: “Can you please stop on your way home and buy me a new hairdryer? Mine just died and I can’t leave the house.”

Apparently, having wet hair turns me into an agoraphobic.

Because he is awesome, he accepted the challenge. And after a long day of football, darts, and beer, he went to Target with his best friend to buy his wife a new hairdryer. Confusion and hijinks ensued (“No, the electronics are over there!” “But the hair stuff is over here!” “Excuse me, what can you tell me about the specs of these hair dryers?” “Well, does she have curly, thick hair, or fine, straight hair?” “Hehe, which one of you has a case of the frizzies?” “My perm’s been really unmanageable lately…”)

Finally J returned, with my brand new hairdryer and a nice case of the hiccups.

I was pleased but confused. Just the hair dryer? No impulse purchases of any kind? The next part of our conversation went kind of like this:
 
"I hope this one's okay. It was between this one and one that looked like a giant pink dildo, and I didn't want to be seen with that one."

"No, this is perfect." I inspected it cautiously. "So you just bought the hairdryer? I thought you might also pick up those stick-on bats like we talked about. For the blank wall in the living room."

We’re having a Halloween party in a few weeks, and decorating the house has been an area of concern lately. For me.

J looked at me like I'd asked if he'd mind if I took a dump on the kitchen floor. "S. was with me. I’m not going to drag him across the store to find some goofy Halloween bats."

"I know, but I can't believe you just got the dryer... what would you do if I died?"

I don't remember how I made this leap, exactly. It probably had something to do with the physics of shopping at Target--namely, that no one in the history of the world has ever walked out of there with JUST ONE ITEM. Thus, how would you get any household shopping done if I died?

J laughed, like this was the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard. "If you died I wouldn't be decorating the house with bats!!!"

So at least there’s that.

And the endearing image of my husband, hiccupping in the check-out lane at Target with his best friend from high school, buying just a hair-dryer for his frizzy-haired, neurotic wife.

5 comments:

  1. Oh, Jess. I really do love this post. A little sad and very funny at the same time. And the funny thing is, when you mentioned the "What would you do if I died" bit, I knew exactly how you reached that particular thought, because I've had the same thoughts about my husband. e.g., If I died who would be here to load the dishwasher correctly??? If I died, who would make sure Sunshine had her hair brushed more than once a month???

    That said, I'm so sorry that everything has been breaking. That's very frustrating. I hope the streak ends soon.

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  2. Okay. I don't know if this is weird or not but one of my facebook friends liked and commented on this post. Because I can see her likes and comments since facebook just loves to publish that stuff, I was intrigued by the first few lines and clicked on the link to read this hilariously funny post.

    So, long story short (too late), I'm not technically a stalker (although I will now obsessively read all of your past posts and comment randomly because that's what I do when I discover a new blog), this is all facebook's fault, and damn, you're funny. This made me laugh because my personal theory is that when you walk into Target, they suck out your brain and don't return it to you unless you spend X amount of dollars.

    Also, now I really want to read your book because the first few pages I read on Amazon made me happy.

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  3. Thanks Caryn--I'm glad I'm not alone in those morbid thoughts!

    GDG--green ducks are my absolute favorite. :)

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  4. Husbands are that way. Give them a grocery list, and they come home with exactly what's on the list, nothing else. Except my husband, who knows that wine and perhaps potato chips are implied, and need not be written down.

    I had this test a few years ago...my mom was in the hospital, and I had to go to Alaska for two weeks, leaving him to manage the house without me. We gained a new respect for each other, because 1. He realized how much I get done every day (I work from home, so it's done when he's not here to witness), and 2. He rose to the occasion and managed quite well indeed. It's shocking.

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  5. J, wine and potato chips are ALWAYS implied...Love it! :)

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