Today marks nine years for me and my fellah. Â Nine years since our misguided, drunken hookup. Â And what did that get us? Â A free strawberry and nutella crepe with our breakfast! Â All week we have been celebrating our “almostiversary”. Â Here is how we have marked the occasion:
1. Wearing fancy socks
2. Seeing Swans (OOF)
3. Texting everyone we know to see if they had any happy pills
4. unmentionable (but also involving fancy socks)
And so our 3,285 night stand rolls on. Â And on. What else does one do to commemorate a favorite mistake? Â Sitting by the East River with some coffees, watchin’ boats roll by, some Assberger dude in a hobo suit and flipflops asked us (or rather shouted at us) if we wanted to see a video of him on fire. Â Most definitely not.
Now my sweetheart is reading aloud to me. Â About chemotherapy. Â That’s how to keep romance alive. Â Maybe we should go to a demolition derby, round things out with a little metaphor. Â There will probably be some dinner. Â If we, dewy-eyed and honey lipped, inform our waitress of the enormity of the occasion, we can probably get another free dessert.
I had to consult an etiquette expert, or perhaps a sexy air hostess, but I am told the 9th anniversary is the sandpaper anniversary. Although some scriptures say it is the itching and burning anniversary. I believe we celebrated ours by ignoring each other, but free dessert is a much better idea. Ankles aloft! I can’t believe you wouldn’t watch that guy’s video!
His bokkiness was not to be endured.
There is a bokkidemic going on.