Do you wanna know who's been bugging me lately?
I know I told you about how I wanted to tour that mansion on our anniversary, and he acted all into it until the day of, and then he said, "Yeah, we can tour that mansion. Unless you want to go somewhere else."
Okay, Manny P. Lative called. Wants his subtle moves back.
For a week now, my friend The Other June and I were planning to see Where the Wild Things Are tonight, and her fiance was also interested in seeing it, so then Marvin said he'd go too. Then as we were driving there, he said, "Why do we have to see THAT movie?"
Really? Cause you were, like, the LAST person out of the four of us who was invited. Are you really thinking we're all gonna CHANGE UP our plans now? Yeesch.
Plus also too, the other night I called Marvin to tell him I was on my way home from the blogger dinner I went to, which clearly was the most important evening of my whole life because this is the third time I've mentioned it in this blog.
I told him about the faithful reader I met who figured out what town TinyTown was, which is similarly the most important thing that ever happened to me in my life because it's the 89th time I have mentioned it, as well. But when I told Marvin about it on Saturday night, it was the first time I told the story and it was still exciting news to me.
"Yeah," Marvin said, after I told him ONE SENTENCE of the story. "But we don't live in Tiny Town anymore, so…"
Does your male other do that, if you have a male other, seeing as I do not want to offend the relationship-less or the persistent lesbians or any other kind of lesbian out there, and this sentence is only funny if you read my comments?
Because Marvin does this all the time. He STAMPEDES for the "clever" comment, which in reality only serves to dismiss the rest of my story BEFORE I HAVE EVEN FINISHED IT.
I pointed out to Marvin that he was killing my buzz by cutting off my stories like that and he said, "But there's always another story right behind it" and SEE WHAT I MEAN?
I was at my vanity, putting on makeup the other day, and I said, "Uh-oh."
"What's wrong?" asked Marvin, who you'll be shocked to hear was in the room playing with a guitar.
"I guess I'm out of under-eye concealer," I reported.
"So people will be able to see your under-eyes?"
At any rate, tonight I told Marvin that YES, we were going to see Where the Wild Things Are and if he didn't want to see that movie he shouldn't have come along. It was raining cats and cats outside, and all I could think of was how large my hair was growing as we got our tickets. I hustled inside and headed, hypnotized, to the concession stand, because why so plump? As I made the crucial choice between crappy processed nachos or saturated coconut oil popcorn, I kind of noticed Marvin was not present, so I turned around.
In the lobby of the theater, there was a giant, giant star shape making up the whole carpet. In the very middle of the star was a circle. Marvin was just standing there in the circle, completely still, waiting until I finally noticed him. He looked ridiculous. It was like every tip on the star was pointing right at him. Only Marvin would notice that stupid pattern in the carpet.
I started laughing, and guffawing, and bending over in that hysterical way that makes everyone look at you, and Marvin just stayed in the star.
Sometimes I remember why I picked Marvin.
(P.S. I liked the movie, and I sat next to The Other June, so when it was over, I asked Marvin, "Did you cry at the end?"
"Yeah, I cried," he said. "I cried that I spent 20 bucks to see that shitty movie.")