This Magic Moment

One of my really close buds, Mich, shlepped up here a few Saturdays ago to spend the day with me.

She's a trooper. There's really not much in the way of diversions where I live in relative isolation, remote from urban delights or what may pass as such. Still, we had a great time catching up on our lives and plotting the future.

Mich's an artist around 25 years younger than me. She's a drop-dead stunning knock-out with a depth and grace that I wish to attain my latter stage in life. She's also funny as hell. Luckily, she's a gourmet chef and what she rustled up with what little I had in the cupboards was spectacular. At one point in my life, I was a good cook. That definitely evaporated as demonstrated by the eggplant parmigiana I made late last night. What a waste of a good eggplant. I'm still eating it, partly as penance.

Our conversation naturally segued into past relationships. Funny enough, Mich and I went through similar circumstances around the same time with our ex-boyfriends. In a perverse way, I'm glad to have a partner in misery: it convinces me that I'm not the only one who dates the bottom of the barrel - let me rephrase that - what's underneath.

She described the breaking point in her relationship. "My boyfriend and I decided to go away for a romantic weekend. We had a beautiful room that featured a giant jacuzzi tub in the center." {I omitted the room description to speed things up here.} "So, my boyfriend's lying in the tub butt naked, waiting for action. He nagged me to get in."

Here she stopped for a sip of wine.

"Right before I joined him, I poured in some bubble bath and turned on the jacuzzi jets. In a matter of seconds, a giant tsunami of bubbles overcame him, poured out of the bath, and filled the room."

I burst out in laughter.

She continued, "He jumped out of the tub, enraged, screaming at me, 'You just killed the moment!' I yelled back at him, 'THAT was a moment!'''

All of a sudden, I got an epiphany about him as well as my ex-boyfriends. In my mind's eye, I saw their point of view: seduction and romance gone awry, never knowing what may happen next. The unpredictableness of her and my actions.

A long time ago I met a fellow eight years younger than me who I knew through mutual acquaintances. We only dated a few times until he stood me up. As far as I was concerned, that was it. Nine years later, I took the LIRR back from visiting my father in the hospital. I had no idea then that that was the last time I'd ever see him. Immersed in my thoughts, I didn't pay attention to the guy who sat down across from me until he cleared his throat. Apprehensive at first, he apologized for standing me up. And then we exchanged phone numbers.

Things moved too fast for me. He kept threatening shopping for an engagement ring. I joined him for a romantic week far away in a hotel. The first morning, I woke up early and saw copious amounts of blood all over him, me and the bed. I searched for the horse's head to no avail. Just my luck, I had the heaviest period in my life. As he was still asleep, I got up, washed and then brought in wet towels to gently swab him before he awoke. Needless to say, that was a fiasco. We made sure to vacate the premises early in order not to walk into any housekeeping staff.

Months later, he sat me down for a discussion about our relationship.

"You know, I want to be able to wake up in the morning, read my newspaper and over breakfast able to guess what you'll say to me."


"I want someone predictable. I never know what you'll say or do next. I feel as if I'm constantly blindsided by you."

Taken aback, I asked, "But isn't predictability boring?"

"Not in a relationship," he sighed.

Which reminds me of a classic family story. {Pull out that java, dammit!} My sister, a teenager, worked night shift at the local Dunkin Donuts and befriended all the local cops. One late evening, she came home in a tizzy while my mother and I sat in front of the boob tube.

"What's wrong?" asked my mother.

My sister cried her heart out. "I thought it would be funny if one of the cops would pull a stunt on my boyfriend. It backfired: he phoned me at work me saying I'm crazy and will never talk to me again!"

Her boyfriend worked at the local movie theatre. Two of the cops ventured over right after the movie theatre closed in the middle of the night.

"Are you Ray?" asked one of the cops.

The sixteen year old nodded.

"Please follow us," said the cops. They made him walk down the dimly lit alleys to the back of the movie theatre. There, they shone a flashlight in his face. "Do you know Sveya?" they asked.

Dumbly, in fear, he nodded his head.

"Did you have sex with that girl?"

Aghast, the teenager almost peed his pants. The cops cracked up. "Don't worry. She just sent us over to say hi."

My mother and I burst out in laughter which only propelled my kid sister to new tears and wails. My mother applied her superior parenting skills to soothe her daughter, "Fuck him if he can't take a joke."

Sure enough, after a few days, he called my sister up and apologized. He said, "Now I've a story for posterity." But, he would never date her again.

Isn't that what life's about? Those memorable moments?

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This blog and all its posts are a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


Anonymous said...

Some men hate surprises - myself included. Bubble bath? Have actually BEEN THERE - was too funny and not a big deal. Having the cops pull a prank on me? I'm not ever going to talk to your sister again and it wasn't even me.

maura stone said...

That'll make you and me both.