Miscellany: Conversations Loosely Related to Dating
Terrible Mother: I'm getting a lot of responses to my personal ad.
Fort Awesome: Yeah? What kinds of things did you put in there?
Terrible Mother: Lots of the smart and funny. You know, like I tell that story about how Jon and I bought each other completely dissimilar Christmas gifts that one year.
Fort Awesome: You put that on a personal ad?
Terrible Mother: Yeah. It's funny and punchy and I revised it a few times to make it work.
[pause]
Fort Awesome: So basically what you're telling me is that you're using your MFA to construct the best personal ad ever?
Terrible Mother: [thinking] Shit. I think I am.
Fort Awesome: That is a depressing commentary on our society.
Terrible Mother: The fact that it takes an MFA to write a good personal ad or the fact I'm $60k in debt and all I have to show for it is a good personal ad?
Fort Awesome: [pause] Are those my only options?
[Later, after Fort Awesome looks at my personal ad]Fort Awesome: that picture of you on the dating site is not ok.
Terrible Mother: which one?
Fort Awesome: Are you wearing a cowboy hat?
Terrible Mother: You don't like that photo? It's cute! Everyone loves that picture!
Fort Awesome: Are you wearing a COWBOY HAT?
Terrible Mother: It's an ironic cowboy hat!
Fort Awesome: What, like an ironic swastika?
***
Terrible Mother: Thing Two dumped Cecelia* yesterday. Because she licked a marshmallow and gave it to Van.
Fatally Hip Single Mother: Dude, you just SLAYED me!
Terrible Mother: I know! It's perfect, right?
Fatally Hip Single Mother: I'm laughing so hard right now I seriously considered writing "lol" even though I'm politically and morally opposed to that.
Terrible Mother: And the best thing is he's all adult about it: "I am not old enough to get married yet anyway. We are both way too young. And she should have given the marshmallow to me."
Fatally Hip Single Mother: That last sentence just blew Thing Two's cover: "And she should have given that marshmallow to me. That faithless bitch! Toy with my heart, Cecilia! I'll show you who's the real man in this situation!"
Terrible Mother: The story slayed me. I nearly drove into the median when he piped up with that from the backseat.
Fatally Hip Single Mother: Jesus Christ, that relationship was WAY WAY too old for both of them. They really shared a connection. I mean, it was dramatic and deep enough for 15-year-olds. Licked a marshmallow. I'm dying.
Terrible Mother: I know! It's like some strange mating ritual gone horribly awry or something.
***
Friend R: I hear that some girls get landing strips.
Terrible Mother: Landing strips? You mean pubic hair? I thought they were called racing stripes.
Friend R: Wouldn't racing strips be horizontal?
Terrible Mother: Ummm, no.
Friend R: They'd look like merging signs.
Terrible Mother: Or traffic signals in Canada. I hate the traffic signals in Canada!
Friend R: Yeah.
Terrible Mother: But they're not horizontal. Because then how would any boy know where to go?
Friend R: If the boys you're dating are that stupid, they don't deserve it.
Terrible Mother: Me? Who said I had a racing stripe?
Friend R: Landing strip. And you should do something.
Terrible Mother: I should?
Friend R: Yes. A little upkeep.
Terrible Mother: Jesus Christ, why are we having this conversation?
Friend R: Now, I could lend you my tools.
Terrible Mother: Tools?
Friend R: You know. My beard trimmer...
Terrible Mother: [chokes on own tongue]
Friend R: ...but I think maybe that would make us a little too intimate.
Terrible Mother: Oh, you think?
Friend R: So, you should just buy your own.
Terrible Mother: Friend R, aside from all the things that are just wrong with this conversation, there is no way I can justify the expense of a hair clipper for that. I just can't.
Friend R: Well, why not?
Terrible Mother: Because it would be for one thing only. And not even a necessary thing.
Friend R: Well, you could trim Thing Two's hair with it.
Terrible Mother: Jesus! That's awful!
Friend R: What? He's been between your legs once.
***
A text message from Friend Omega:
“I just passed a prosthetics store. Or, as you call them, a brothel.”
***
Terrible Mother: I don’t know what to do with all of this. The ex keeps emailing and I want to answer him.
Friend Omega: Let this boy go. Sever. All. Ties. You know how much I hate writing. like. this. But I did it. For you... for *us*.
Terrible Mother: I love him. I think I should tell him that.
Friend Omega: Blah blah blah. Do you want to be like one of those crazy cat ladies that adopts a bunch of sick and wounded cats and she means well, but she has 90 gimp-assed cats in her house? Only with men?
Terrible Mother: No! I won’t be anything like that!
Friend Omega: I know. I was being dramatic.
Terrible Mother: Oh.
Friend Omega: And if you quote that cat lady thing for the blog, I want a chance to rewrite it.
Terrible Mother: Fine. I still think I should tell him I love him.
Friend Omega: I think that telling the ex, especially after the fact, that you love him ranks among the six or seven stupidest ideas you've had since I've known you.
Terrible Mother: Really?
Friend Omega: Yes. Listen, TM. I love maple syrup, but I know that it's no good for me. I know it makes me sick when I eat it, and as delicious as it is, it clogs up my arteries and makes me feel heavy and bloated for the entire rest of the day.
[long pause]
Terrible Mother: Maple syrup clogs your arteries?
Friend Omega: I hate you.
*tm**
*Yeah, he "dated" this girl, Cecelia. I sorta hate the way people claim their elementary aged sons are "dating someone" as a way to, I dunno, scream "no, he's not gay!" even that early. But Thing Two and Cecelia definitely had something. And this "something" meant that Cecelia's dad and I would often find ourselves yelling "CHEEKS! You can only kiss the CHEEKS!"
**I somehow forgot to sign off and include the post script. This is what I get for posting at 3:00 am.
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Comments
Fort Awesome: What, like an ironic swastika?
That was awesome. You made my day!
Better than that. . .
Great post. I also loved the moral perspective on LOL. It reminded me of seeing a friend after a few years of being out of touch. When I picked him up at the airport, we got to talking about cars, and I commented that with his daughter no longer being a toddler, they'd probably need a larger car. "I thought you might be in an SUV by now." My friend drew back in shock. "That would be immoral!" That's become a general catch-phrase in my household.
Seriously, my favorite thing that Fort Awesome ever said was that "ironic swastika" thing. I laughed so hard I snorted coffee.
Oh, my God. I couldn't read past the first few pages; too much vitriol. But it was a great, moving piece. I suppose if it hadn't been, people wouldn't have reacted so strongly.
Oh, and on this post, I'm reminded of yet something else that I liked--ironic swastikas. I visited Berlin back in the late '80s, and picked up a bright red souvenir T-shirt with a hammer and sickle on it at Checkpoint Charlie. On a trip around the same time to Prague, I found a vendor on the Charles Bridge selling candle busts of Lenin (the wick comes out of the crown of his head), which I couldn't resist. So I'm definitely into the idea of ironic, horrible souvenirs.
We need Copperman to come and confirm. Yo! Copperman!
Also: what you all should really do is ask 'wait and see,' who told me all about this phenomenon. I have never been to Thailand. But apparently, 'cool' teenagers there regularly wear t-shirts with English writing and symbols that are, well, a bit disturbing to anyone who knows what they mean. Apparently the swastika is particularly well loved, followed by pictures of-- Hitler. Yes, Hitler. These Hitler youth also favor t-shirts monogrammed with silhouettes of military-clad soldiers holding guns to the heads of villager-like asian peasants, with speech bubbles declaring: "Eat rice, bitch!"
It's like EMO gone twilight zone. Or, as TM was saying, it's what happens when you have no knowledge of origins or implications, just... products.
***
On the Thailand-Nazi thing, last year a school had a Nazi-themed celebration. This article details it and some other Thailand Nazi stuff.
(Uh, oh... is there anything morally reprehensible about emoticons?)
Also, I'm pretty sure those clippers need to be task specific. Like kitchen scizzors.
Recently, a friend of mine who works at the local climbing wall, wore a shirt with a swastika on it to work for his boss, who is, yes--Jewish. He said he thought it looked cool, that it was his favorite shirt.
But, it is not just Thais who are guilty of giving into distasteful and insensitive fashions--tourists commonly wear shirts here that say 'Cambodian Landmines' with a picture of a skull and crossbones, making the landmines that continue to claim the lives and limbs of Cambodians into a trendy suvenier.
I disagree completely about 'lol', too. One should refrain from using 'lol' because it is passé and not because it might make them appear déclassé.