Marriage is Gay
Sorry, I know I promised that I wasn't going to write about my roommates anymore, but this material is just right there and I can't not record it.
The following exchange occurred last night, between Anne (who quit her job back in May in order to plan her wedding, which is not until December) and her Fiance (who is paying Anne's rent until the wedding):
ANNE: Hey, hon, how do you like your sandwich cut, diagonal or vertical?
FIANCE: Diagonal, please. What about you?
ANNE: OK, bring the chips to the kitchen, so I can put them on the plate.
FIANCE: But I like eating chips out of the bag!
ANNE: Well, that's not good for you because you can't tell how much you're eating and you're libel to eat the entire bag in one sitting. Here, I'll put them on the plate.
FIANCE: OK, I didn't know this was a mind game.
ANNE: What are you insinuating? I'm not trying to be manipulative; I'm just trying to take care of you!
FIANCE: I'm so sorry, hon.
ANNE: It's just that I'm trying to take care of you and you totally blew up at me!
FIANCE: I know. It's totally my fault. I was just kidding around. I'm so sorry. I've had a rough week.
ANNE: It was funny at first but then you wouldn't drop it!
FIANCE gets up from the table, slowly walks into the kitchen, and hands ANNE the bag of chips. ANNE reaches out for the bag and the couple embraces. ANNE is still shaking, as the FIANCE comforts her, whispering ensues, followed by the sound of lips smacking -- MWAH, MWAH, MWAH.
Oh Anne. That was almost as bad as the blowup of December 2005, when you two argued about whether your (future) children will open their presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. Now I am not one to talk, as I will never win a man through his stomach, but everybody knows that potato chips taste much better directly out of the bag.