Rain cloud and hair spray

Here’s a funny story for your Saturday. I couldn’t wait to share this story with Mike on our date a few weeks ago.

I was rushing to an appointment that I thought was canceled but wasn’t (I hate being late), left the deal for our date on my desk, had some anxiety about the appointment, and was just fuming while riding the metro. I was so mad and grumpy and couldn’t think about anything except my grumpiness.

I’m standing in the doorway on the metro totally in my own head when this man comes and stands in front of me facing the door.  He’s between 40 and 50 with a big belly. He’s wearing a thick royal blue and white patterned knit sweater from the late 80’s/early 90’s, faded black pants sitting kind of low and baggy and he was far from attractive.  Though I have to admit his hair was kind of nice.  It was completely gray and though he had a full head of hair it was kind of thin but it was styled like someone my age.  Like standing up and nicely combed.

We’re just riding along when all of a sudden he takes out a can of hair spray and starts spraying his hair while looking at his reflection in the train door. “Just need some hair spray,” he says to me as I look at him in disbelief, speechless.  “This can cost me $7,” he continues nodding at the pocket size spray in his hand, “but luckily the guy that owns the shop gave me a discount.” He mutters a few more things as I look around to see who else has witnessed this, trying not to burst out laughing. He gets off at the next stop and I exchange glances/laughs/head shaking with some on-lookers.

I couldn’t stop laughing to myself for the rest of the ride (I probably became the spectacle after that). And that was it.  The cloud I was carrying over my head was completely gone. I think God or the universe sent this strange man to me so that I’d stop stewing and lighten up.

I’d love to know:

Have you ever had a strange or funny experience on public transportation?  This wasn’t my first.  Remember the best bus ride ever?



I thought about posting about these two moments on Twitter (@thingsafterings) when they happened
with the tag #mymarriedlife but I’m not sure I could get them under 140 characters.

First one:

One night last week I remembered that I had a lunch meeting the next day and wouldn’t need leftovers for lunch.  Within 5 minutes Mike was in the kitchen.  When I asked him what he was doing he said “snacking and combining your lunch with mine.”  Wow, that didn’t take long.

Second one:

Mike and I were on the bus on the way home from the grocery store.  We weren’t sitting next to each other and when I looked back at him he was smiling.  Of course I smiled back, almost blushing that my new husband was admiring me from afar.  When we got off the bus Mike was like “did you hear that guy snoring on the bus?” “No,” I said, “is that why you were smiling?  I thought you were admiring me.”  “Well I was doing that but I also wanted to get your attention so I could tell you what you sound like.”

Get Candy

Happy Halloween!  When I think of Halloween, I always remember this bit from Jerry Seinfeld. Enjoy!

So tell me…

What candy were you after as a kid?  I’m still after Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. And has anyone else noticed that the standard size are so much better than the smaller size? 

What was your best Halloween costume as a kid? Oh, you mean the years I wasn’t a cheerleader?  One year I was a rabbit in a hat.  That was before I had any shame.  Though to be honest, that’s the kind of Halloween costume that is cool at my age now.  It would be better than a slutty fill-in-the-blank, no? 

operation bed-bug

the friday after we got back from ocean city, mike noticed some bites on his stomach and hip.  “maybe they’re bed bugs?” i suggested.  we did a quick google search and the images that popped up looked kind of similar to mike’s bites but we couldn’t be certain. we checked our sheets and bed and didn’t find any signs of bugs.

when i got back from the gym the next morning, three laundry baskets sat piled high in the middle of our living room and i could tell mike wasn’t in the happy, peppy, post-workout mood i was in.  “i’m really worried about bed bugs,” he said.  sighs and pacing followed.  not from me, from him. though mike thoroughly checked our sheets and mattress for signs of bed bugs we spent the rest of the day doing laundry.

a week later, i woke up scratching my arm.  and then i noticed some bites.  there were quite a few in a concentrated area.  i showed mike and went on to eat breakfast and check email.  about 20 mins later, i could sense some stress (perhaps after a few sighs) and mike admitted to being worried about bed bugs again. he said he wanted me to visit a doctor so we could find out for sure.  as a compromise, i said i’d ask around at work and see what people thought. at work, reviews were mixed. i did a google image search this time and thought that the bites didn’t look too much like mine. thinking he’d come to the same conclusion, i told mike to do the same.

when i got home that night, mike said “the more i think about it, the more i think those pictures look a lot like yours.” he had a website about bed bugs up on his computer and told me to take a look.  i start reading and clicking around and the website said something like “if you need evidence of bed bugs so that a landlord or management company will send an exterminator but don’t have evidence of bed bugs on your sheets or mattress, only bites, then you’ll need to catch a bed bug” with “catch a bed bug” hyperlinked.  out of sheer curiosity, i clicked on the link.

the article described an old-fashioned way to catch bed bugs: put vaseline on the legs of your bed frame so that when the bed bugs try to crawl up, they’ll get stuck.  this seems like an easy test.  i share this with mike and he heads to the linen closet to get the vaseline. he sits on the floor beside our bed, pulls up the bed skirt, dips his fingers in the vaseline and gets to work.  i come running in with the camera.  “please don’t take my picture.” snap.  “i said, please don’t take my picture.”  “why not,” i giggle, “this is so funny.” when i try to take another, mike gets mad.  “stop!” he says.  i run away, mad that he won’t let me have some fun with this.  when we get in bed that night mike says that he doesn’t want people to know about this, that it’s for-lack-of-a-better-term embarrassing. i still think it’s super funny and ask if i can write about it if it turns into nothing.

first thing the next morning mike grabs the flashlight to inspect our trap.  fortunately no bed bugs. mike read that it can take a few days to catch any so he reapplies the next night and we wait a few more days. at this point, there are still no signs of bed bugs so i think we’re in the clear.  we probably have one random bug every now and then, i mean something is biting us, but thankfully we’re not letting bed bugs bite.

nfl lockout over

phew.  thank god the nfl lock-out is over.  i mean a fall without football, what would i do?  

here’s my football routine according to mike:

  • 30 min prior to kickoff: get excited about game time food.
  • kickoff: enjoy food. have a beer.
  • 5 min later: comment on Andy Reid’s weight.
  • end of 1st quarter: done eating.  finished beer. time for nap.
  • middle of game: move nap from couch to bed.
  • end of game: wake up.  determine outcome of game based on mike’s mood.  check on dinner plans.

but not this year. this is going to be the year in get into sports.  well at least football. mike asked me once if i could commit to one sport, one philadelphia team for an entire season which would it be?  easy.  the eagles.  why?  because they have the fewest games.  it’s a commitment i can stick to. and i can try to get into football.  hockey is a little too fast for me and baseball is a little too slow.  and who cares about the ‘76ers? i mean really.

with marriage mike’s commitment to me increased.  i am now a co-owner of a fantasy football team. mike has left his dad and brother “platt guys” and started a new team with me: “dc platts.”  and i have to be real here:  i actually am honored. now i need some tips so i can pull my weight as co-owner.  if you have any, please, leave a comment! 

so here’s to a great football season.  E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES!!!

don’t leave laundry in dryer overnight.

this morning i woke up about 6:30.  mike was already at the gym and due back soon and i like to get out of bed before he gets back.  i head downstairs to get the sheets and towels i left in the dryer overnight. about 7 minutes later, i pull two heaping baskets of laundry out of the elevator one at a time and set them in front of the door.  the washington post is gone, mike must be home.  i go to open the door and it’s locked.  ugh! i knock lightly on the door for a bit.  no answer.  he probably can’t hear me, must be in the shower, and i don’t want to knock much louder and disturb the neighbors. though trust me, i wanted to bang my fist against the door until mike answered. but i realize that this can be a source of frustration and anger or a funny anecdote that we can share a laugh over.  i’ll choose the laugh.  so i start to fold the laundry, giving a light tap on the door every two towels or so.  no answer.  i continue to fold the laundry in the hot, humid hallway. i hear the ironing board open inside (mike irons his clothes every morning) and know that he’s definitely inside and out of the shower.  he still doesn’t hear me knock.  i’m just laughing to myself.  the laundry is folded nicely in the two baskets, ready to be put away.  and i’m still in the hall.  i decide to sit down.  if i continue to stand and pace and look around, i will get annoyed. so i sit down and relax. i see the neighbor’s newspaper and consider picking it up to read but don’t. i figure that worse come to worse, mike will see me when he leaves for work at 7:15. then i hear silverware clanking inside the apartment.  i imagine mike making an egg sandwich and sitting down with the paper in front of the tv.  then i realize that since we moved, mike doesn’t leave til 7:45! and then i realize that if i can hear the ironing board and the silverware drawer from out here, he must be able to hear me knock.  so i knock again.  the door opens and i look up at mike in the doorway.  he looks down at me and says, in all seriousness, “what are you doing, lover?” 

we share a laugh over the fact that he locked me out and i’d been sitting in the hallway for about 20 minutes.  and i’m glad that i chose to see this as a lighthearted mishap and not an infuriating oversight.