I know the things that make men want to crawl out of their skin and come back only when the asshole Nikol leaves and the good Nikol resurfaces. I try to suppress these moments, but in my world, I’m funny. Too bad laughter from one doesn’t resonate quite as impressively as a collaborative effort.
I knew we were getting to the meat of it when it was his move in the game, and I opened my mouth. And spoke. It’s not so much that words trampled out into the air, but that they were drenched in sarcasm, weighing them down until they landed in a splat onto the chess board. He looked at me in such a way that made my stomach sink down into my shins, and flashbacks of me being embarrassed in front of a crowd by my father giving me that same look surfaced and I wanted to crawl under the table in shame. I smiled instead and changed the subject only because I was afraid I would cry if the moment lingered on too long.
Right uppercut, left hook.
Later on, he accused me of being narrow-minded because I mentioned that I don’t care for small dogs with the long, white hair. I think we were both surprised when he didn’t crumble into a heap onto the floor on account of being hit by the poisonous vapor that shot from my eyes the moment the words escaped his lips. The look vanished as quickly as it appeared because if there is one thing I try very hard to do, it is to control my temper. I want to think things through before I react, and while I am not always successful, it is most definitely a work in progress.
Having said that, and after much deliberation on the subject, I have reached the following conclusion. Narrow-mindedness does not equal taking ownership of a preference. If this were the case, everyone would be narrow-minded, and in a sense…I believe everyone is to an extent. Narrow-mindedness is relative. I don’t believe in your God, I don’t follow your politics, we don’t listen to the same music, my answer to most things is “I don’t like, I don’t like, I don’t like”…I am narrow-minded. But would I be open-minded if I agreed with you?
Regardless, making such an accusation over a dog is much like making the same accusation in my choice to prefer strawberry preserves over orange marmalade. If this is a valid argument, then my mind is a suffocatingly narrow hallway in a funhouse, complete with ridiculous mirrors and uneven floors.
Jab Jab Jab!
Place your bets, Folks! I have a feeling this is going to be a really good match.