I’m working on this thing for this guy. Decent stuff, render-heavy, nice concept. My brain is only 2/3 into it at the moment. I keep glancing at my phone.
“Any moment now,” I say to it, smirking at the ridiculous predictability of it all. “Any moment.”
I go back to solving this vexing camera issue in a scene requiring a very tight fly by. But I’m only mostly committed to solving it. I’m distracted. It’s THAT time of day.
My phone obediently, predictably, buzzes next to my keyboard. With a long and tortured blink, I pick it up.
“Hey honey, how’re you,” my phone asks.
Typical.
“What do you want to do about dinner?”
A-HA! Like clockwork. Clockwork!
“I don’t care” I type, wondering for the millionth time why I haven’t set up a macro on my phone for this entire conversation. “Do you want me to cook, or should we meet somewhere?”
3-2-1…
“I don’t care.”
Of course you don’t. You’re a brilliant, wise, and successful woman. Why would you state an opinion about where to eat a meal?
“I don’t either” I respond, the effort of ignoring my hypocrisy causing me physical pain.
…
…
…
“We’ll meet” I say, because I think I just thought of a solution to that damn camera problem, not because I was suddenly inspired to go out. “Do you feel like anything in particular” I ask, already knowing the answer, and again ignoring the hypocritical pang. “Or not in the mood for something?”
“Whatever.”
fffffffffffffffffffffssssT. POP! Aneurysm. I just can’t tell if it was caused by exasperation or by the ignoring of my culpability in The Great Marital Cliche.
I don’t know why so many couples have that conversation, but I think I know why WE have that conversation. It’s because we’re rarely so in the mood for something that it overrides our desire to indulge the other person. Say I want tacos, but I’m only 75% in the mood for tacos. Maybe She’s 80% in the mood for Crispy Spicy Tofu. I could get some Chinese. After all, 75% is less than 80%, so we should get Chinese. Now, if I were like, 98% in the mood for Thai Chai wings from D-spot, you’d better believe I’ll speak up.
Unless She’s 99% in the mood for The Vesuvio from Punch Pizza. Then I could order a Bruni. I’ll just be thinking of those wonderful, wonderful Thai Chai wings.
I think another reason for The Debate is that we both like surprises. Though for two people so into trying new things, we’re regulars at an alarming number of places. Weird.
Anyway, I think a another foundational part of our “What Do You Want To Eat” sadomasochism is our mutual hope that the other has an inspired idea. That doesn’t happen everyday, right?
But it’s still important. Maybe the most important. We don’t mind routine, we don’t hate a pattern. Well, I hate them a little. But I understand their importance and excuse their existence. There’s got to be a baseline I suppose. On the other hand, She and I typically find our fuel in the atypical. The New, the Unexpected. It doesn’t have to be big things, big moments. It can be, and usually is, the smaller stuff. The couple times a week things. It could be a restaurant or a meal. It could be a new bike route. It could be a wet cat food that doesn’t make those asshole cats puke.
It’s all a byproduct of being open to discovery. It’s what happens when you’re hoping to recognize and capture an inspired moment, while understanding that it doesn’t happen as often as you’d like.
So. Where will I go tomorrow? What will I see? Who will I meet? And will any of it change the trajectory of my life by a degree or two?
I don’t know, we’ll see. But I can say for sure that right now I’m 52% in the mood for Palak Paneer from Surabhi.
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