Romantic comedies have told us a lot of lies over the years. They would have us believe that the following gestures are the height of romance:
Emotional reunion in the rain;
Extended dance sequence;
Feeding one another (let the record show the only time it's ever appropriate to feed a significant other is after one of you has been hit by a bus);
Bathing one another (see above). But the number one, single most over-rated romantic activity of all time:
The Lazy Sunday in bed.
Oh sure, on paper it sounds delightful—a full day devoted entirely to gentle napping with that special someone. But the stark reality is a different story. My most recent "Lazy Sunday" had all the relaxing zen of an internment camp. Ladies, don't be fooled, the moment you set foot in his apartment you're not a guest, you're a POW.
9:00am: The morning's off to a good start with some, er, adult cuddling. But it's a clever tactic to leave defenses lowered. Suddenly I'm ensnared in a snuggle/sleeper hold. There's no countermaneuver. As I lapse into unconsciousness I think, "Must... escape... the dry cleaners... closes at noon..."
3:00pm: W-Where am I? Hungry and disorientated I awaken behind enemy lines. With the fate of my "To-Do" list hanging in the balance, I negotiate for my release. But is that, is that reruns of The Wire I hear?
4:00pm: Morale has stabilized. I was able to convince my captor to allow me food rations so we ordered Chinese. I requested extra hot mustard sauce...but I didn't get any. War is hell.
10:00pm: Stockholm syndrome sets in and the mission fails. There's still a chance I could get to the grocery store today... but first let's watch just one more rerun of Mad Men.
Oh sure, on paper it sounds delightful—a full day devoted entirely to gentle napping with that special someone. But the stark reality is a different story. My most recent "Lazy Sunday" had all the relaxing zen of an internment camp. Ladies, don't be fooled, the moment you set foot in his apartment you're not a guest, you're a POW.
9:00am: The morning's off to a good start with some, er, adult cuddling. But it's a clever tactic to leave defenses lowered. Suddenly I'm ensnared in a snuggle/sleeper hold. There's no countermaneuver. As I lapse into unconsciousness I think, "Must... escape... the dry cleaners... closes at noon..."
3:00pm: W-Where am I? Hungry and disorientated I awaken behind enemy lines. With the fate of my "To-Do" list hanging in the balance, I negotiate for my release. But is that, is that reruns of The Wire I hear?
4:00pm: Morale has stabilized. I was able to convince my captor to allow me food rations so we ordered Chinese. I requested extra hot mustard sauce...but I didn't get any. War is hell.
10:00pm: Stockholm syndrome sets in and the mission fails. There's still a chance I could get to the grocery store today... but first let's watch just one more rerun of Mad Men.
No comments:
Post a Comment