Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Typical

On the drive up to New York, Gretchen and I both had a moment that perfectly summed up elements of who we are:

ME: On the drive up, we stopped for lunch and were putting Mädchen back in her seat when I noticed a book had fallen onto the ground when we opened the door on her side. For some reason I decided I could multi-task and simultaneously pick up the book while opening my door. Needless to say, just before my hand reached the book, the corner of the door smacked into my forehead hard enough to rattle my teeth and make my eyes water. Gretchen looked concerned for a second as I staggered around the parking lot gripping my head in my hands, but once she saw I wasn't bleeding and didn't appear concussed, she laughed hysterically. You'd think I'd get some sympathy in that situation, but she's so used to my clumsiness that she's long past that.

GRETCHEN: I like to be reasonably prepared when I travel, so as we were getting ready to start our drive I handed Gretchen directions for our drive. I didn't really care about getting to New York since I've done it plenty of times, but I wanted to make sure I knew where to go once we got into the city. She muttered something about not wanting them under her feet the whole drive and put them in the back seat. Which was fine, until we got a few miles from the exit for the Lincoln Tunnel and I asked if she had the directions. Yes, she assured me, they should be easy to find. Next thing you know, she's got her seat belt off and is tearing through every bag in the car desperately trying to find the directions (while I stewed quietly in the drivers seat), before finally locating them in the glove compartment. I'll readily admit that winging it has its purpose, but not when driving into Manhattan on the Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend.