Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Marriage 501, Lecture 54: We're going to be late‏

This is how it works at our house.

SH and I agree to attend an event. Or to go to the airport. 

Let's use, for example, the decision to attend a movie on a worknight. I.e., "Skyfall," which I agree would probably be better on a big screen than on our TV. 

Although let me back up for a second:

If we are late to the airport, I have trained myself not to care, at least when we are going so SH can catch a plane. "It's not my problem it's not my problem it'snotmyproblem" is the mantra I chant to myself as SH gets increasingly frustrated with TRAFFIC! Who knew there would be TRAFFIC on the way to the airport? 

I do not like being around tense people and tension. I come from a low-drama background. SH is used to seething tension and frequent explosions. 

If SH misses his plane, it's not my problem. And if he misses a plane to his mom and dad's house, well, tante pis. Shrug.

But - if we are going to the movies, which we have done once in the past three years, I think, then I want to be on time.

In college, my boyfriend was always late (well, that's my memory, anyhow) in picking me up to go to the movies. I hate missing the previews. I also hate missing the beginning of the movie. Sometimes, we were going to a movie at Greenway Plaza, which would mean previews. Sometimes, we were just going to whatever they were showing in the Chemistry Lecture Hall. I don't think they do that at Rice any more. Now, the students hang out at the very fancy, expensive new rec center, which might be why tuition is now $35,000 a year instead of $3,900 a year (and that included all fees and our blue books - it was a shock to get to grad school and have to buy my own blue books. They weren't expensive, but I showed up for the first test without one) like it was when I was in college. Even though I emerged from college in debt, it was only (only!) $13,000, which was less than my starting salary of $20,000 (with 11 paid holidays and full insurance coverage with no contributions from me). 

Where was I? Oh. With the college boyfriend, who was a sweetie, we were always late to the movies, which annoyed me to no end, mostly because I hate missing stuff but also because the reason we were late was because he was always helping people with their physics homework. On a Saturday.

"Just tell them you'll help tomorrow," I would say. "Nobody has to do homework on Saturday night." Of course, they did it anyhow. I went to a nerd school. And of course many of those nerds have started technical companies that have made them wealthy. Maybe I should have been doing physics homework on Saturday.

So. SH and I decided to go to a movie. The movie started at 6:30. I got home from work at 5:30. When I got home, SH came downstairs. 

SH: I think I'll go for a quick run.

Me: Now? [Casting doubtful look at clock]

SH: Sure. There's plenty of time. Hey! What's this? [Indicates package I brought in]

Me: I think it's the new [fluffy, not made in China] sheets.

SH: Was it UPS? I didn't hear the doorbell.

Me: I don't know. It was by the door when I got home.

SH: What if they're made in China?

Me: Then we return them.

SH: I have to see.

Me: I thought you were going running.

SH: I have time.

5:45 SH has gone back upstairs and has come back downstairs.

SH: I guess I need to go running.

Me: Do you think there's time?

SH: Of course!

He puts on his running clothes. He goes back upstairs to get his mp3 player. He checks his email.

5:50 SH leaves.

6:00 He's gone.

6:10 He's gone.

6:15 He returns

SH: That wasn't bad, especially considering I haven't been running since the half marathon [in June].

Me: We're going to be late.

SH: No we're not. 

Me: Yes. We are.

SH: It doesn't start until 6:30. I guess I should get in the shower.

Me: Really?

SH: I'm sweaty! I haven't had a shower in two days!

Me: You've been sitting at a desk for two days. You're not dirty.

SH [sniffs armpit]: Yes, I guess it's OK. And if I'm sitting next to you and you don't care, then it doesn't matter. But I need to shave.

Me: We are going to be late! We're going to miss the previews!

SH: So what? We're only late if we miss the beginning of the movie.

Me: No! I want to see the previews! [Which I now know were a complete waste of time. Apparently, the theater near our house thinks "market for people who like stylish British thrillers about a British icon" = "market for people who also like very loud movies/sequels about Transformers."]

SH: I need to shave.

Me: You have got to be kidding me.

SH: I look scruffy.

Me: Like anyone at the theater will care? Just put on a wool cap and you'll look like a hipster dude who's scruffy on purpose.

SH: Fine. [He gets dressed, but only after putting his running t-shirt in the dryer so he can wear it again: "Why would I put on clean clothes if I haven't taken a shower?"]

6:28 We leave for the theater.

Me: We're going to be late. This is all your fault.

SH: I thought you would be happy that I was going running. You're the one who didn't want to walk to the theater. Don't you want me to exercise and be healthy?

Me: Not particularly, at least not now that you are back on your work insurance.

SH: You don't care!

Me: You're making this into my fault.

SH: And I made the bed! And did the dishes! You're not giving me credit for the things I do around the house!

Me: What on earth does that have to do with being on time for the movie?

SH: I was BUSY!

Me: We're going to be late.

6:29 We arrive at the theater

Me: I cannot believe you always do this. You always scrape in by the skin of your teeth.

We walk into the theater. There is a line for tickets/beer. No, they are not separate lines, which is stupid but brilliant - force people to wait in the beer line for their tickets and they'll figure that they might as well buy beer.

I leave SH in the line and find us a seat on a couch that turns out to be very uncomfortable and reminds me why I prefer watching movies at home now.

They don't start the movie until 6:40. Because it takes that much time to sell beer to everyone in line.

SH wins.

1 comment:

rubiatonta said...

Greetings from your friendly multi-lingual editor. "Tant pis" means "too bad." "Tante pis" means "Auntie Piss."

Do you think the lateness is an Engineer Thing (TM)? Because my stepdad, the Moustache, is also prone to it. Though I think he's gotten better about it -- 30+ of marriage to MamaRubi seems to have had some effect!