Couplehood Read Online Free PDF Page A

fifteen minutes.”
    S ometimes, I must admit, I
become
the very people that I hate. I get distracted and kind of forget to drive. I’ll sit at a green light for eight minutes because I forgot to look up. I’ll slow down to twenty miles an hour because I forgot to press down my foot. This is less dangerous than driving fast and reckless, but actually more annoying to those in the car with you.
    “Are you going to go around this guy or what?”
    “He’s going to go, relax.…”
    “There’s no driver. It’s an abandoned car.”
    “Oh … I knew that.”
    D riving with your loved one can strain the relationship because, though you’re doing it together, only one person’s in charge. The passenger is your prisoner.
    “Do you want
me
to drive?”
    “No. Why?”
    “Because I don’t like the way you’re driving.”
    “How am I driving?”
    “I don’t know, but you’re making me crazy.”
    “
You
want to drive?”
    “Yes.”
    “Too bad,
I’m
driving.”
    It’s not like fighting over the TV clicker, where if the battle for control gets ugly, one of you can leave the room. Here, the doors are locked and you’re doing sixty. Nobody’s going anywhere. (Which is essentially Marriage, but with High-Speed Motion thrown in to make it interesting.)
    I f you’re ever on a long car trip together, you find you start to recognize the cars and drivers around you. You start to judge them, like you know them.
    “Look at that guy in the Mitsubishi—he’s still smoking. He really should cut down.… I’m going to talk to him next time we stop.”
    “That lady in the RV. That’s her fourth donut. How does she do that? Does she not
know
what she looks like?”
    S ometimes if you’re stuck in traffic with the same people, mile after mile, they genuinely become your neighbors. These are the people you turn to for solace. You complain to each other. First, you make eye contact. Then, little sympathetic sighs and dismissive waves of disgust.
    “Ahhhhhhh, pppfffhhh.” (I don’t believe I’ve ever spelled that out before.)
    Once in a while, you even roll down the window and chat. “Hey, can you believe this?”
    “Well,
this
sucks, doesn’t it? How is it over in your lane? Sucks?”
    “Here, too. Sucks. Guess it sucks everywhere, huh?”
    You develop a relationship with these people. Which is why I get upset when somebody tries to pass. It’s like they’re breaking up the relationship.
    Your first response? You’re shocked. You didn’t see this coming. “What do you mean you’re leaving? Why? Where are you going? I thought we all agreed we’d stick it out together.… What is it—you want to see other cars?Is that it? I guess you need some
space
of your own, huh? Well, fine. Go.… Just go.”
    And the great moment of revenge: Two minutes later, they come crawling back. They want back in. But, of course, you don’t let them in. You’ve been hurt, scorned—make them sweat.
    “Hey, look who’s back. I guess life in the fast lane didn’t work out like you planned. Suddenly I’m looking good to you, huh? Well, get in line, baby.”

Negotiating
in Good
Faith
    A lot of times, the things you do when you’re alone aren’t necessarily selfish, they’re just dopey. But you don’t realize it till you see them bouncing off someone else.
    Actually,
everything
you do when you’re alone looks dumb. Ever watch what you do when you walk into the house by yourself? There’s no rhyme or reason to your actions. Just ten minutes of random, halfhearted, inefficient activity.
    You put down the mail and stand still. For about a minute. You just stand there and stare at a chair. Then you take your jacket off, not even all the way. Halfway off, so your arms are still dangling. You open one piece of mailand then get bored. You pop on the TV, flip through a few channels, looking for nothing at all in particular, and then forty seconds later, you shut it off. You weren’t even
watching
TV. You just wanted to have it on.