Thursday, May 3, 2007
I’m Not Going To Take It Anymore
My wife has decided it would be funny to make a certain obscene gesture whenever anyone walks past our apartment. This may be directly related to her other decision to put coconut rum in everything: sauces, gravy, deserts, drinks, house plants, shoes.
Being the supportive husband, I’m happy with her decisions, and they've given me license to make a few of my own, the most important of which is the decision that I’m not going to take it anymore.
Now, what is the “it” that I’m not going to “take” anymore, you might ask? And to where have I been taking “it” up to this point? These are both good questions. “It” can be many different things, and their destinations are equally variable. “It” might be a banana I don’t want to eat because it has turned brown and mushy. Some people might like that, but I can assure you, I’m not one of them. Traditionally, I’ve taken such “its” to work as part of my lunch, only to dispose of “it” in a coworker’s bottom left desk drawer.
Other “its” might turn out to be small pocketable items arrayed on the shelves of local purveyors of sundries that I have no right to “take” (at least not without the requisite exchange of currency) but always seem to end up in my bottom left desk drawer. I believe I have a problem with bottom left desk drawers. You might even say I’m a “bottom left desk drawer” man.
But probably the most important “it” is an umbrella. I’ve taken “it” just about everywhere, and for what? It neither raises me in my colleague’s estimation nor is it useful as either a defensive or offensive weapon. Plus, I’m always leaving “it” everywhere, necessitating sheepish returns to stores, museums, offices, alligator nests, and scenes of drunken merriment in vain attempts to recover “it.” I don't need the hassle and I’m not going to take it anymore.