Yesterday morning, Brian and I were participating in a little communication game called, “What hell are you talking about?”. It is something that happens periodically when our communication skills rival a foreign language film with no subtitles.
His second shift job is four days a week and they are ten hour days. So, he normally gets home around 1:15 am and in bed by 1:30 am.. He texted me on one of his breaks to wake him up at 7:30 am as he had a 9:10 tee time. (Don’t ask why he wouldn’t choose sleep instead.) Sure, no problem,since being a human alarm clock is one of my favorite gigs. After I woke him up, this was our conversation:
Me: I am taking the Focus to the store and I will be back long before you leave for golf. Can you put Bryce’s car on the street, so that I can take the Kia? (I should have indicated why I was taking the Kia after I went to the store, but I thought he would remember that I have a 9 am meeting I attend on Fridays.)
Brian: I can take the Focus to golf.
Me: Yes, that is what I am saying.
This conversation was repeated again. I was convinced that he left his processing skills at work. Anyway, I got home from the store. This was an hour after our very enlightening conversation that kept going in circles. He admitted that he wasn’t understanding because he forgot that it was Friday, and that I was going to my regularly scheduled 9 am meeting. Sweet. Baby. Jesus.
Later, as I was pumping gas, I received these interesting text messages from him as he was golfing:
Brian: Y5 uh buy in 77 (I try to be hip, so I thought maybe this was some new shortcut for texting. As a writer, I hate that shit. Complete sentences along with punctuation is what you will get from me.)
Me: ????? (Lazy texting from me. I didn’t feel like typing, “What are you trying to say?”.)
Brian: (Laughing emoji) xss say (At this point, I am convinced that either he has been kidnapped and this is code for me to call the police or he is having a stroke. Either way he would be screwed because I have no idea what is happening.)
Brian: .lui ii
Me: WTAF (Okay, I know that this isn’t a complete sentence adorned with punctuation, but I am at the gas station and my spouse has lost his mind. I also said the long version out loud as I typed it. People are starting to stare.)
At this point, I am standing outside at the gas pump having a conversation with myself. I am sure the other customers are enjoying my monologue with sentence enhancers.
Brian: I’m not having a stroke. Phone unlocked in my pocket.
Me: Okay, weirdo.
What a relief! Cue my exaggerated eye-roll along with a heavy sigh. Five minutes of my life I will never get back. I was exhausted by the exchange and am wondering how his phone unlocked in his pocket when it requires his finger print. I am contemplating communicating as a mime. Oh, who I am kidding, we would screw that up too. It is amazing that we have lasted this long despite the gaps in our ability to interact with each other.
Relationships require clear communication. We are not the poster people for that. If anything, those who write books about this type of thing, might use us as an example of how not to communication. Sometimes we use sign language in the form of the middle finger which is often accompanied by my eye-rolling. Clearly, we have work to do. But somehow, through whatever we are lacking, we eventually get to an understanding. With that being said, I think I will try to find a class where they teach you how to mime. It probably won’t help the issue, but it might be fun to spice up the interactions.
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