drunkenbee

The Incredible True Story of How Ed and I Were Almost Captured By an Army of Married People

The Setting:
Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.
Just one year ago, April 2003.

The Backstory:
Quoth my father: "I suggest that you both attend a religiously-oriented pre-marriage counseling weekend."

Heareth me: "No sophisticated and understated gerbera daisy centerpieces for you, missy, if you don't attend this weekend."

Heareth Ed: "Oh god oh god oh god oh god does he know I'm boinking his daughter?"

Cast of Characters:
Roger and Jean: Head of this Couples' Weekend. Turns out when you email either Roger or Jean, the person returning your email always signs it "Sincerely, Roger and Jean." I'd like to attribute this to their refreshingly postmodern desire to intervene in the oppressive regime of the self, but think it's more likely that these people can't shit without asking how the other feels about how this dump might change their relationship. Also, Roger's icy blue stare burns holes through your soul.

Bruce and Laurie: Ain't no two ways about it, Bruce looks like a turtle and Laurie looks like a caveman. Laurie comes complete with hunched-high shoulders and a seriously prehistoric mullet. Bruce cries every 10 minutes and when he does so he extends and retracts his neck and does that slow turtle-lip-pursing thing and he's totally all "Slow and steady wins the race" like Cecil Tortoise. Roger and Jean's right-hand Turtle and Caveman.

Emasculated Former Marine & His Wife Who Obviously Keeps Her Vagina on a Very Very High Shelf: Well, I guess that about sums it up. Also helping Roger and Jean out running the weekend.

The Virgins: Fellow attendees.

Two Pairs of The Guy With Secret Beer in His Truck and His Fiancé Who Just Hopes He'll Settle Down After the Weddin': Fellow attendees

The Couple Who Fell In Love Making Rough Hewn Crosses Out of Tinder at Bible Camp: Fellow attendees.

The Hot Eighteen-Year-Old Girl And Her Balding Twenty-Something Fiancé: How much do you wanna bet that girl's a stripper right now?

Your Hero and Heroine: Who needed to tap a vein after this weekend.

Scene One:
Wind Beneath My Wings plays softly in the background
Under glaring fluorescent lighting, Sarah bends over a worksheet that reads "An Encounter with We" and includes the following questions:

"A time when my decision to love you led us to an experience of joy was . . . " and "In what areas of our live [sic] do I find that loving you takes decision?"

Sarah is clearly befuddled by the strange and unfamiliar syntax of the questions. As a person who makes a (paltry) living reading and deploying language, she is stymied by her inability to fulfill this "Encounter with We." Ed, however, throws himself into the "Encounter," writing in his notebook to share with Sarah later:

"I really don't understand this question. I made a decision to love you but didn't experience joy until afterwards? I "decided" to love you, uh, I guess in 2000 and what, we then took a shower together and that gave me lots of "joy." What kind of question in this? What kind of people are these?"

Ahh, the progress being made in their relationship is palpable! Palpable!

Scene Two:
Some Christian soft rock plays in the background. Sarah notes that the song's lyrics sort of make it sound like a gay guy is asking God to dance with him, and God is saying yes!

It's just past lunch, and everyone's feeling a little bit FRISKY! Uh, oh, looks like the topic's going to be S-E-X!!

Roger: I like to think of sex as "Sexual Dining."
Attendees (in unison, sotto voce): Gasp! Eek! Please no!
Roger: See you have your fast food sex, or what you might have heard is called "a quickie." That's like a triple cheeseburger; tastes good but leaves you hungry.
Sarah (thinking): Cheeseburger? Whose cheeseburger is this dude talking about?
Roger: Then you have your Family Dining, like goin' out to Chili's for a quick bite. This is better than fast food sex, but still leaves a little to be desired. Then you have your Five-Star Dining. This is when you get out the candles and make love to one another.
Fellow Attendees: Ah, yes, and so God spake: Ye shall do the Lord's work by doin' it like you're in an R. Kelly video on some silk sheets.

Turtle: And so I was worried about doing it with the caveman when she had a bun in the oven. Would I hurt the bun? I wasn't sure. So I prayed about it.
Attendees: I. Am. Never. Having. Sex. Again.

The Virgins furiously take notes during the entire talk.

Scene Three:
Our hero and heroine are struggling mightily to answer the questions on the "Sex and Sexuality" worksheet. They believe that sex is an important part of a healthy marriage, and so take these questions very seriously. Here are some excerpts:

"After hearing this talk, what questions about sex do I most want to talk to you about?"
Sarah: "Um, so babies come from sex and sex is when two people hug real tight and when they separate a baby is on the ground, right?"

"How do I feel about you seeing me nude?"
Ed: "I am really trying to keep from laughing at this question. I just had a fit of several snorts about you seeing me "nude." Okay. Drank some water. Okay. Does my ass look fat?"

"What sexual acts do I think are improper in marriage?"
Sarah: "The only sexual act that I think would be improper is that one move where you tie me to the ceiling fan, set it going, and then strap yourself to my back while we fly around in circles and you &%#$ me up the &$%#^. After marriage, I think we should stop using that move. Everything else should probably still be on the up and up."

"How do I feel about you giving and receiving physical affection from others? Give examples."
Ed: "Meaning, would I want to watch you give another guy a blow job? Why is this questionnaire so porny?"

Scene Four
An obscenely early hour in the morning, all attendees asked to gather in the conference room before heading down to breakfast.

Roger (blue eyes zapping sinners down): Good Morning! Let's say grace before we go to breakfast.
Attendees (mumbling): Urmph, mrrrmp, vfreth.
Roger (bellowing): Oh did I say "say" grace? I meant "sing" grace! Let's sing grace now! Everybody to the tune of the Flintstones!

(In case you missed that, this grace is set TO THE TUNE OF THE FUCKING FLINTSTONES!!!)

God is great
And God is Good
And LetUsThankHimForOurFood
(twice)
By his hand all must be fed
give us Lord our daily bread
God is great
and God is good
and we thank him for our...
we thank him for our...
we thank him for our food!!!!!!!!!!

Scene Five
Things are getting tough. Ed's handwriting in his journal is starting to have an "All work and no play" quality about it. We have a long drive back to Chicago. We want to leave early.

But there are Roger's eyes to deal with. We also want to leave with all our limbs unsevered.

The solution? What always works when dealing with weird Christian men? Menstruation!!! Ed, in the most husbandly thing he's done in our non-married life, walks right into that pack of bible-thumping wolves.

Ed: "It's Sarah, see she's got some unspeakably evil cramps. Yeah, right now she's in her room, head spinning around backwards, hissing and popping like some serious undead. So, we're gonna take off a little early, huh?"

Roger fixes his Laser Eyes of Soul Burning Intensity right on Ed, only to be surprised to find Ed has his own pair of Superhuman Blue Death Eyes. They stand locked in this Ultimate Xtreme Sinner Face Off for some time, until Ed does a quick head fake and breaks for the car. Sarah is right behind him, Ed hops in the car just as Roger, Jean, Turtle, Caveman, Shelf Vagina, and Pansy Marine come careening out of the hotel. Sarah is able to dive into the open passenger side door and slam it, just as the Xian Marital Army, 5th Battalion reaches our heroine's trusty Mazda Protege. Ed, testosterone flowing, floors it and burns some Apostatized Rubber. When Ed gets home, he will bed his woman, install a garbage disposal, and scratch his balls because he is A MAN AMONG MEN.

Two Drink Minimum

People pair up romantically for a variety of reasons. For some, it is a moral dictum, a sweet ride in the SUV headed to heaven. For the unimaginative, it's simply what's done (Monogamy: It's What's for Dinner). For still others, it's the most efficient way to plow through the Pottery Barn and Williams-Sonoma catalogs. Some will tell you it's all about learning and listening and reading poetry to one another aloud. Personally, I think a lot of people are monogamous just because they get tired of having to look at so many regular people naked; that one goes something like this: "OK, let's agree to not look at or touch any other regular naked bodies. Professionally naked bodies are obviously still on the table though." And of course there's a whole lot of blah-bitty-blah about love, commitment, faithfulness, and someone to change your bedpan when you're old. Or, as the case may be, someone who also needs a bedpan laying next to you in your old age.

Anyway, who's to criticize any of these motivations? I really don't give a shit why or how people organize their romantic lives. I mean I sort of want to tell those polygamists on that one MTV Real Sex episode that they could really use some style advice (Ooh! Brilliant idea! Let's capitalize on Queer Eye's success with a show where some kindly soccer moms give Goth polygamists makeovers! It could be called "Shabby Chic for the Unstylishly Bleak"), but otherwise, as long as you're not hauling off and kicking literal ass in your romantic relationship, do it your way, fella.

But sometimes I do wonder about my and Special Ed's special connection. I mean sure, we're "in love," but I have a sneaking suspicion that maybe it's not all on the up and up.

I think we love each other not only for the supportive words and intelligent conversation, but that we kind of mainly love each other for the laughs. We are each other's best audience. And now we're addicted to that ready comedic kill available every night at 7 p.m. in the kitchen.

We might as well have the proverbial brick wall behind us as we converse over dinner or American Idol. If I ever happen to make a good joke in an IM conversation with a friend, or turn a witty phrase in an email, you can be sure Ed's going to hear those words, recited verbatim, later in the evening. And he will laugh. Not because it is his duty—which it is—but because in some twisted way we totally believe our own propaganda.

I say that because no one in the world would find our conversations particularly hilarious. We, however, do. We're like Party members in Russia, circa 1918. Yes, this dirt pie certainly is delicious!

Our devotion to the laugh sometimes even sneaks into the bedroom. Not since Andy Kaufman did Mighty Mouse has there been a bit like the one where Ed pretends the vibrator is a motorboat.

So judge us, if you must. Call me a craven whore for the spotlight, the one beaming out of my husband's eyes at me while I do my "Fat Lady We Saw Being Pushed Up the Hiking Trail in Yellowstone By Her Skinny Husband" impression. Ed had me going last night for about 20 minutes describing how he couldn't decide whose reading material he should be craning his head toward on the plane: the alterna-teen on his right reading a 'zine full of incisive political commentary ("Man, the MEDIUM is the message, dude") or the gay man to his left reading a gay romance novel ("Steve rolled his eyes at Jeff and sighed. Would he ever find someone who understood him?").

Don't think we don't realize how unfunny you find our Two Weeks Notice schtick. What can I say, the laugh is the glue that holds this marriage together. What are you, anyway, some sort of homewrecker?

Straight Up

Special Ed's always thinking of the children: "I bought a BBQ Chicken Lunch from Henry, the security guard at work. It's for the poor kids. I wonder if the kids will be watching me while I eat it, all hungry and poor and I have BBQ sauce all over my face as I plow into a chicken leg."

Elixir

Blonde Redhead -
Misery is a Butterfly