Saturday, December 19, 2009

My life as a romantic comedy

It wasn't very sporting of the recycling men to come two hours earlier than they ever have yesterday. Our bottles and cans were out, but alas, not the paper. It took me a few minutes to absorb the fact that the recycling truck was actually in front of our house at 6:45am and by the time I found a pair of shoes and rushed out of the house, they were gone. What with all the packages arriving and the fact that trash day will be delayed for Christmas next week, the paper/cardboard situation in our house is dire.

So yesterday when I left work, it was snowing. It was a long, slippery walk to the bus stop and a long wet wait for the bus. As I stood on the sidewalk, getting covered with snow, I heard a muttered exclamation and suddenly a man thrust his umbrella over my head--a handsome man, a quite handsome and acceptable man, a handsome, man who gallantly shares umbrellas with snow-covered ladies in distress. Wasn't I JUST YESTERDAY writing about the romance of the bus? It developed we were headed for the same neighborhood and we rode the same bus downtown and then he escorted me, under his umbrella, as far as Spudnuts, where our paths diverged and he went home to his girlfriend and I to my husband. It was like something that would happen in a movie starring Jennifer Aniston and Jude Law.

If my life were a romantic comedy, the moments under the umbrella would be the opening scene and we would both be single, of course. The chase after the recycling men would happen the next morning, only as I stood forlornly at the end of the driveway, charmingly disheveled and holding an overflowing bin of cardboard, Umbrella Man would just happen to drive by in a Smart Car. He would stop and I would blurt out an embarrassing comment, something like, "I guess YOU don't have to compensate for anything," but then his large fluffy golden retriever would jump out of the car and knock me down, thus obliterating any awkwardness, and later, I'd tell the story to my wacky sidekick friend and she would box me about the shoulders and scream, "How could you have said that?" Meanwhile, Umbrella Man would tell the same story to his wacky sidekick who would say, "Duuuude." "Compensating for what?"

Umbrella Man would offer to take me and my recyclables to the drop off center, and since in my Romantic Comedy life, things like getting to work on time (or, for that matter, how to fit two adults, a fluffy golden retriever and a large bin into a Smart Car) are of little significance, so off we'd go and I would be saved from a dire paper/cardboard situation.

In my Romantic Comedy life I'd still be a nurse, although one who apparently collects a paycheck without ever having to show up for work. There might be a short scene in which I prance about in scrubs doing media-nursey things like putting a bandaid in the knee of an adorable toddler and fending off the advances of a cloddish doctor. Umbrella Man would appear with a minor gash in his forehead--perhaps he too got knocked down by the fluffy golden retriever, or the fruitcake his grandma mailed him fell off the top of the fridge and hit him in the head--so I tenderly bandage the cut while the doctor comes in and acts like an ass and when he leaves, I say something like, "God, what a tool." I think that my past history in this life includes a bad breakup with a doctor.

Umbrella Man suggests we go out for a drink and it's conveniently the end of my shift, so we leave together without me ever having to give report or check on my other patients or anything. The rest of the movie would be fabulous outfits and ridiculous scrapes involving dogs and Smart Cars and city buses, and maybe an oaf of a doctor trying to derail our True Romance while our wacky sidekick friends try to help, but only hinder, or perhaps try to hinder but only help. In the end love would win and the last scene would be us walking home together past the spot where formerly our paths diverged.

6 comments:

  1. And Umbrella Man would look a lot like Colin Firth?

    It just occurred to me that we're going to be dragging our trash/recycling to the curb tomorrow evening. Hopefully, our street will have been plowed by then. Also, hopefully we will have finished digging a path from the house to the street by then.

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  2. Actually, he looked like Jude Law. I can't even get to my garbage cans, and they're buried in snow almost to their tops.

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  3. I think you have the outline for a winning screenplay. Now you just need to write it down between going to your job, taking care of the family and chasing down the recycling truck.

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  4. I can see it--totally see it. You're wearing a very cute pink wool coat. Jude Law. Perfect casting.

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  5. This reviewer gave the film ****
    4 stars!

    Merry Christmas!

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  6. I would totally watch that movie. In fact, I want to see it right now.

    That WASN'T very sporting of the recycling guys to come early. You need someone like my six-year-old, who ALWAYS remembers to put the trash and recycling out the night before. He's on top of our waste maintenance needs. He works for free, too.

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