I remember on a slow day, I was joking around with one of the pharmacy reliefs. To get a feel of what her personality is like, let's call her.. Amy Tan. She and my other coworker were talking about superficial stuff that I couldn't stand, and for the life of me, I couldn't think of ANYTHING to change the subject. So I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "What's love?" She gave me that "wtf" look, but surprisingly, she actually gave me a genuine answer. Despite taking me seriously, her response was underwhelming. "Love," she said, "is living with your room mate and getting to have sex every once in a while." Wow. I wouldn't touch her problems with a six foot pole.
Okay, I know real love isn't magical like girls think in The Notebook, and that it's a LOT more complicated than that. But really? Living with your room mate? Something about that wording just- how about something like "best friend"? and instead of "sex" it's "make love" or something along those lines. I wanted to be a smartass and ask her if love is "when a woman has four penises in her at the same time. Then stands over the men and pees on them, is that part of being in love too? Five midgets. Spanking a man. Covered in thousand island dressing. Is that love?" But I didn't because 1. She actually took me seriously and gave me serious moment. 2. Couldn't remember the exact lines 3. Probably wouldn't understand the South Park reference. and 4. In that moment, pitied her more than I could ever resent her. I nodded my head and left the conversation at that.
And that's pretty much what I want this blog to be about. Me, just trying to figure out what that four-letter word means. The ups, the downs, everything and maybe, just maybe, I'll find something more than just a room mate that I get to have sex with every once in a while.
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