Story Time

storyVirginia HartComment

The other night, Patrick & I walked around the corner for an impromptu sushi date. I sat there as we chatted about nonsense and closely examined our roll options. "Ugh. What is that smell? Do you smell that? Something is burning." as I buried my face in the bend of my arm. "Yeah, has to be from a car outside." Patrick smelled it, too. I looked around the restaurant, my facial expression surely indicating that I was annoyed by the unpleasant stench.




"Ohmehgod." (as I removed my plastic menu from the candle that came out of nowhere, I swear.)

He's never letting this one go, just so you know.

Patrick decided it would be huh-lar-ious to tweet to the world that no, that wasn't an earthquake but rather Ginny letting out a burp after her dinner. (To be fair, I think it was the artichokes I had. And whatever, a girl shouldn't always have to be so polite. And I'm sorry, who is he to talk?) I wanted to kill him. And then I really wanted to kill him when a stranger replied to his tweet with, "you felt that, too?" and we looked at his and others' feeds and realized that people were reporting an actual small earthquake in the city and trying to determine its origin. Awesome. Patrick couldn't stop giggling. Did I tell you I wanted to kill him?

Okay, time for one that makes fun of Patrick.

"heeaaaallllpppp! HEEAAALLLLPPPP! HEEEYYYALLLLP-uh!" - Patrick throwing what appeared to be a 6'4" two-year-old's tantrum, shaking his clenched fists in the air whilst wailing from the other room upon being stuck on a mouse glue trap. I nearly lost a lung laughing so hard while attempting to pull it off. What a goof.

(clearing my throat)

As my luck would have it? Two days later? The exact same thing happened to me. Notsofunny.

early this morning:

"Patrick! Come here for a sec. Can you think of any times when I've made fun of you? I'm writing this post and I know there has to be some good dirt on you, too. Like that time a few years ago when you got pulled over for speeding near the Grand Canyon--"

"--and you snapped pictures of the policeman? No, that doesn't count. You give me way more material to work with."

"Patrick!" (voice makes a very strange little noise)

"What was that? Was that English? Did you just have a stroke?"

(...pretending that I'm convulsing because I'm upset when really, I can't stop laughing.)

(how did he turn this convo on me so quickly? no seriously, how?)

two lessons from this story time sesh ::

1. I don't have very good luck. I do things like nearly burn down the Asian restaurant on 8th Ave...and indirectly become a part of a Twitter conversation involving my burp and the origin of an earthquake...and laugh at Patrick getting caught in a mouse trap and then Karma's all, "Bahaha. Wait 'til this happens to you, little lady." And if I try and be witty? It fails miserably. Ya know, like the other day when I thought I made a really clever assessment of a basketball game and was going to impress Patrick with my knowledge? I sent him a text and it totally backfired and he made it a point to tell everyone in the vicinity.

(Keep your fingers crossed that my tourney bracket beats his bracket, okay guys?)

2. April Fool's Day is comin' up and I need a stellar plan, Stan. I am now accepting ideas at [email protected].

Thanks a million for even reading this rant.

until next time,