njjen3953
4th Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2001
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Other than being tickled, why would I be laughing at 5:30am?
ROGER AND SUSAN - A LOVE STORY
{this is a long long story, so get comfortable before you begin}
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Susan. He
asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A
few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy
themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a
while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to
Susan, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you
realise that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly
six months?'' And then there is silence in the car. To Susan, it
seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Jeez, I
wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling
confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him
into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Susan is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't
sure of either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd
have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the
way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going?
Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of
intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a
lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I
really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's
see .... February when we started going out, which was right after I
had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . better check the
odometer . . . Whoa! I'm way overdue for an oil change here.
And Susan is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe
I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our
relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed --
even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes,
I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about
his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the
transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still
not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold
weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this
thing is shifting like a goddamn garbage truck, and I paid those
incompetent thieves $600.
And Susan is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be
angry too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I
can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day
warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Susan is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right
next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a
person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about
me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl
romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them
a goddamn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up
their ....
''Roger,'' Susan says aloud.
''What?'' says Roger, startled.
''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes
beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . . Oh God,
I feel so ..... '' She breaks down, sobbing.
''What?'' says Roger.
''I'm such a fool,'' Susan sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight.
I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no
horse.''
''There's no horse?'' says Roger.
''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Susan says.
''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Susan
says.
There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one
that he thinks might work.
''Yes,'' he says.
Susan, deeply moved, touches his hand.
''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.
''What way?'' says Roger.
''That way about time,'' says Susan.
''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''
Susan turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him
to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if
it involves a horse. At last she speaks.
''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.
''Thank you,'' says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted,
tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to
his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and
immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match
between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the
far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on
back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would
ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't
think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Susan will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of
them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours.
In painstaking detail, they will analyse everything she said and
everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring
every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning,
considering every possible ramification. They will continue to
discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never
reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it,
either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual
friend of his and Susan's, will pause just before serving, frown,
and say: Dave, did Susan ever own a horse?''
ROGER AND SUSAN - A LOVE STORY
{this is a long long story, so get comfortable before you begin}
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Susan. He
asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A
few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy
themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a
while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to
Susan, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you
realise that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly
six months?'' And then there is silence in the car. To Susan, it
seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Jeez, I
wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling
confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him
into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Susan is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't
sure of either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd
have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the
way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going?
Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of
intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a
lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I
really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's
see .... February when we started going out, which was right after I
had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . better check the
odometer . . . Whoa! I'm way overdue for an oil change here.
And Susan is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe
I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our
relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed --
even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes,
I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about
his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the
transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still
not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold
weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this
thing is shifting like a goddamn garbage truck, and I paid those
incompetent thieves $600.
And Susan is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be
angry too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I
can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day
warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Susan is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right
next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a
person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about
me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl
romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them
a goddamn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up
their ....
''Roger,'' Susan says aloud.
''What?'' says Roger, startled.
''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes
beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . . Oh God,
I feel so ..... '' She breaks down, sobbing.
''What?'' says Roger.
''I'm such a fool,'' Susan sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight.
I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no
horse.''
''There's no horse?'' says Roger.
''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Susan says.
''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Susan
says.
There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one
that he thinks might work.
''Yes,'' he says.
Susan, deeply moved, touches his hand.
''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.
''What way?'' says Roger.
''That way about time,'' says Susan.
''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''
Susan turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him
to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if
it involves a horse. At last she speaks.
''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.
''Thank you,'' says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted,
tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to
his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and
immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match
between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the
far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on
back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would
ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't
think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Susan will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of
them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours.
In painstaking detail, they will analyse everything she said and
everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring
every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning,
considering every possible ramification. They will continue to
discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never
reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it,
either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual
friend of his and Susan's, will pause just before serving, frown,
and say: Dave, did Susan ever own a horse?''
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