“What do you wanna do?” is the champion of frustrating questions in a relationship. And the predicted follow-up, “I don’t know…What do you wanna do?” is a close second. Having been caught in this incessant vortex of accommodation to no fruitful end, I resolved to start our dating scenario on a decisive foot, declaring to Aly, “Alterna-cirque is in town. Tonight after dinner we will attend a burlesque show with belly dancers, fire breathers, and women who will politely and professionally take their clothes off as they walk on shards of broken glass.”
And she was game!
We drove to the theater, umm, warehouse, and noticed a much younger and obviously hipper couple walking toward their car, he with keys in hand. I rolled my window down to ask a question at which time nervous Aly put the death grip on my arm and whispered, “don’t talk to them.” She is sometimes fearful of my disposition to seek a laugh, sure that I was about to ask these strangers leaving the venue, “Did you see any boobies?” All I wanted to do was ask for their parking place, and when I did, I found out why they were leaving. SOLD OUT!
Missed it by that much.
So we went to see the anti-feel good movie of the year, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Given the vivid depictions of rape, animal mutilation, and anal probed tattooing, it is safe to say burlesque would have been the tamer of the two.
But it really didn’t matter. After twenty-two years and three kids together, we have seen it all. We have celebrated everything shy of winning the lottery. We have slumped beside the graves of close friends and closer family. We have cleaned all manner of bodily waste and re-gurge, and nursed everything from a yanked uterus to an unhealed emergency tracheotomy neck hole.
Burlesque is nothing compared to a marriage as strong as ours. We could eat burlesque for breakfast, if we wanted to. Anal probed tattooing though? Well…not so much.