I was flying from Atlanta to
Milwaukee last week and I found a seat at the gate across from a couple, they
were probably around 60 years old, who were just about to enjoy some delicious sandwiches
from Jersey Mike’s. Delicious they were
not, I suppose, because as soon as the wife bit into her sandwich, she started
scrunching up her face and sticking out her tongue, whining loudly “Pickles!
Pickles! ACKKKKHHH yuck! Pickles, the entire sandwich tastes like
pickles! PICKLES!!!! PICKLES!!! They put
pickles on my sandwich!!!” Understand
that I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping on conversations, but it was a
serious production that I simply could not ignore. As she waved her hands around and stuck her
tongue out for all of Hartsfield-Jackson to see, it became clear that
she was attempting to get a reaction, any reaction, out of her husband, who had
clearly just committed a cardinal sin. I
thought to myself….
“OKAYYYY, First world problems, lady. Shut up and eat the stupid sandwich. No one here but you cares.” She
didn’t find a spider on her sandwich, you know?
It’s a pickle. There are starving
children all over the world who would have been happy to eat the pickle. She could have simply removed it without the dramatics. If you don’t want to eat it, princess, you
don’t have to. No one is forcing
you. It’s not Fear Factor for the Ridiculous.
Then I noticed that while she
was having her meltdown, her husband was eating, very robotically. He has his hands clamped around his sandwich,
looking forward at nothing; he was mindlessly chewing. He looked like MacGyver trying not to make
any sudden movements because the sandwich may blow up in his face. Then I hear her say “I told you! I told you! We should have gotten a STANDARD AMERICAN
CHEESEBURGER!” He still didn’t
react, meanwhile, I have another thought….
“What the hell is a Standard American
Cheeseburger? You’re not deciding
between a stick shift and an automatic, lady, it’s a freaking sandwich!”
The lady went on for a good
five minutes and her husband never once reacted, which was amazing to me
because my limit for annoying, spoiled women is 4 minutes, tops. She finally got up, held her hand out,
demanded money and announced that she would be going to buy something else. Then she dramatically threw her disgusting
excuse for a sub sandwich into the trashcan and stormed off.
I know I shouldn’t have done
this, but I couldn’t help it. I looked
at the man and said “She really despises
pickles.”
He shrugged his shoulders and
said “Wish I had known.”
Poor soul. I never want to be with anyone who loses his
shit over pickles or anything else just as non-earth shattering. What a miserable existence.
Now I am making a lot of
assumptions here, but it seemed as if they had been together for a million
years. Why? Because she flipped out about pickles and he
ignored her. Had they only been married
for a few years, he probably would have said “Oh, baby, let me get you a new pickle-free sandwich” to appease
her or he would’ve told her to chill out.
If they had only been married for a few years, maybe she would have
treated him with respect in public and not like a doormat? I asked myself—Is this what marriage looks
like after 40 years? Do you actually
fight over pickles and Standard American Cheeseburgers? Or is it what marriage
looks like when you marry someone who sucks?
And did she always suck or did she turn into someone who now sucks
because of life or because HE sucks? And
is it possible that after 40 years of being married to one person that your
spouse wouldn’t know that you don’t like pickles? Is it possible that he knew she didn’t like pickles and intentionally pissed her off? Is
this what you have to look forward to when you promise to love someone until
death? Passive-aggressive sandwich sabotage
and other petty arguments?
Maybe. Maybe not.
I don’t know. But I know that it’s
probably not a good idea to walk into a relationship with someone who makes a
big deal out of everything. It will
always be your fault and nothing you do will ever make someone like that happy.
Plus, they are embarrassing.
In my opinion, you should
always travel with someone on a long trip before you ever decide to get
married. Airports are stressful places,
even for people who are generally chill and a million things really can go wrong. After walking with 100 pounds of luggage on
your shoulders, being groped and pushed around in security, and having your
water bottle and toiletries taken away, then you have to sit in a tiny ass seat
between two stinky people who steal your arm room and drool on your shoulders….if
there is anywhere to give someone a test spin, that’s the place. You can tell a lot about someone’s resilience
by the way they wait for their suitcase in baggage claim.
My thanks go out to the
pickle lady who reminded me of what I DON’T want for my life. I just wish I could ask her what’s on a
Standard American Cheeseburger.
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