"Yeah," Jen whispered, "he was talking about buying a practice in San Diego before you got here." And so we sat there, pretending to be really focused on eating our Paradise Bakery salads so we could listen in shamelessly on the most asinine conversation.
Babe was pretty typical: skinny, tan, bottle blonde. I learned that she was a server at a chain restaurant in North Scottsdale. She was sipping something out of a tall tumbler. I assuemd it was not water.
According to the current exchange, Dr. Dude had done something to upset their relationship. In retaliation, Babe had slept with "some 20 year old", according to Dr. Dude.
"You don't understand, Babe," Dr. Dude said taking a swig of of BL, "I don't think you are ready for all of this." he motioned to his torso, also tatted out.
"No! you don't understand!" Quibbled Babe, "I am being honest with you! You need to respect that!"
They went on and on like this for about an hour. It would be super boring to write down all of their conversation because it was cyclic and melodramatic and, mainly, stupid. At some point during the conversation, the elderly man from Nebraska (also the grandpa of the child that was exposed at an early age to an alternative definition for 'motor boat') piped in to no one in particular, "Spring has arrived! It's mating season!" Jen and I cracked up. I looked over to the older man and responded, "Yeah, the birds are going crazy." He chuckled, "And the boys!".
Dr. Dude, who was now on the same chaise lounge as babe, looked up helplessly, "You've gotta understand, man, how much I love this girl!"
Nebraska responded in true Nebraska form, "Then maybe you should marry her. You know, marriage is a fine institution." Babe smirked at Dr. Dude. Dr. Dude braced her shoulders and stated very profoundly:
"Babe, if we are gonna be we are gonna be. I love you so much. I know you don't know how lucky you are to have me right now, but maybe some day you will see." Dr. Dude looked lovingly into her eyes as he lifted her glasses. Babe had tears glistening in her eyes. Or maybe that was side effect of the muscle relaxers she was on.
"Even when you were mean to me- like when you wouldn't tell me where you were going or when you'd be home-" [pregnant pause] "I never stopped loving you!" she professed.
"Babe, that's why you should have never listened to your stupid friends! They just didn't want me in your life!" Dr. Dude popped the cap of a bud light for her. I was not sure if I should cry, throw up, or ask them for some of their drugs.
Dr. Dude began cooing some sort of gibberish in Babe's ear. Unfortunately, the sound decibles were to low for me to hear. This made me wish I was a whale because whales can hear at low decibles.* I began to doze off in my chair; as i slipped in and out of consciousness, I heard mumbling of Babe's desire to move to New Zealand "'cuz all I need in life is to be on the beach!". Moments later, she was nearly in tears because, sadly, Dr. Dude is a litter bug.
All the while that I listened to this bullshit, I wondered who was the most normal: 1) me, sitting in my chair trying to gather enough material to exploit the two lovers 2) Dr. Dude and Babe's love affair that was about as stable as Whitney Houston (not even bringing bobby into this simile) or 3) the recent addition to the pool deck- a huge German man in a French cut speedo face down on a Teletubbies towel while drinking a Capri Sun.
In trying to suspend my judgements, I thought about all of my dating inadequacies and inabilty to maintain a stable relationship. If you have read some of these snapshots within other entries, I feel this is fairly obvious. Granted, I never cried if a guy forgot to recycle.
I spent a moment wrapping my head around which was worse: a failure to commit or a commitment to failure?
In the end, the answer was clear: Hanzel over there on his Tinky Winky towel was the only one who had it going on. Especially with the Capri Sun. It made me really want one very badly. The rest of us were a bunch of dipshits who either over think or under think any possible incident or relationship. Hanzel, however, though deep down inside he knew it was fucking weird to watch PBS children's shows, clearly, was just glad to be himself. Or he was simply waiting for the six year old to come back outside.
* you are tremendously stupid if you believe everything I say. I know nothing about aquatic creatures.
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