Or: Does Roger own a TT?

Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named
Elaine. 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.

Then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs
to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do
you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for
exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. . . To Elaine, 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 want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking:
But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, 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...lemme check the odometer. Whoa! I am way overdue for an
oil change here.

And Elaine 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
garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Elaine is thinking:
He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. 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. Scumbags!

And Elaine 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, school girl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking:
Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll
take their warranty and stick it right up their...

"Roger," Elaine 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," Elaine 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?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Elaine 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.

(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Roger, do you
really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."

(Elaine 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.

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.

The next day Elaine 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 analyze 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 Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown,
and say, "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the difference between men
and women!

 

describes it perfectly! LOL

 

poetry

 

Pretty good!