The other day, The Bromance had come over to finish our House of Cards marathon. When we took a break, he started talking about some code thing with The Husband. As one does. Because that's totally appropriate casual, fun, living room conversation. Oh, there it is! I just rolled my eyes again! And again. Okay, I'm done for the time being. Halfway through the conversation, I noticed him snapping his fingers and flapping his palms like a birdie in front of The Husband's face. I had already zoned out listening to this very interesting conversation but apparently, The Husband had too. But at least this wasn't as bad as the other time he zoned out when he was with me.
We were once watching something on TV while he was going through 9GAG on the side. So I turned to him and said, "That guy looks hot. Don't you think so?". No response. He was already in some distant galaxy, figuring out the meaning of "existence" and "life" and "science in everyday extra terrestrial life". So I tried the age old trick of breathlessly repeating what I said (while trying my best to not slap those glasses off his face):
"thatguylookshot thatguylookshot thatguylookshot thatguylookshot thatguylookshot thatguylookshot thatguylookshot"
"don'tyouthinkso? don'tyouthinkso? don'tyouthinkso? don'tyouthinkso? don'tyouthinkso? don'tyouthinkso?"
"don'tyou? don'tyou? don'tyou? don'tyou? don'tyou? don'tyou?"
It still took him longer than usual to snap out of it and finally say, "Huh? Wha-? Who? Him? Oh. Cool. Wait? What? Him?", all in one breath. But at least this wasn't as bad as that time when he was still living with The Bromance.
Around two years ago, The Bromance got home from work to find The Husband sitting on their couch with his laptop. He wasn't moving and he didn't look at The Bromance even once when he entered the room. They could have been getting robbed for all you know and he really wouldn't have even noticed. So The Bromance sat down next to him and started playing a game. It looked like The Husband was looking at the TV screen now, following the game. After some time, The Bromance asked him something pertaining to the game and received no reply. None at all. The Husband did not move. Two whole hours later, while The Bromance was getting dinner ready, The Husband looked up and replied to his question. The question he asked two hours ago. TWO WHOLE HOURS AGO. Two. He had zoned out for two whole hours. Seriously, what beast did I marry? Well, at least this wasn't as bad as that time when he helped someone key a moving car with a screw driver from another moving car while he had zoned out. I know what you're thinking. Allow me to elaborate.
(I don't know how many) years ago, The Husband's entire family was going on a road trip. They used to do that every once in a while and that's when all the kids got to meet a bunch of relatives they had no idea even existed. So everyone packed themselves into different cars and The Husband was travelling with a man he had never met before. He still has no idea who he was or where he'd come from. It was late at night and The Husband was sitting in the passenger seat, wide awake and determined not to doze off. But what use is not dozing off when you're the kind of person who zones out like a light. At some point, the driver-relative-he-had-never-met-before-in-his-life asked him to pass him a screw driver from the glove compartment. A strange thing to ask for, you'd think. Yes, you'd think. I'd think. We'd all think. But not The-Zoned-Out-Husband. Without a question or even a glance in the driver's direction, he opened the glove compartment and handed him the screw driver. He suddenly came to his senses when the car jerked to the right out of nowhere and he began to take in the whole scene. The driver was having a speeding match with an adjacent car and they had been honking and screaming abuses at each other the whole time he'd been zoned out. So his relative decided to take things to the next level by keying his opponent's car with a screw driver. Which my wonderful husband (who was a kid back then) had provided. I keep wondering what would have happened if that had been a gun instead. It turned into a whole brawl and this man stopped his car in front of theirs to take down the maniac who had keyed his car with a screw driver and his stupid zoned out accomplice who provided him with said screw-driver. It was only when the rest of the party turned around to come looking for this car that had apparently gone missing that everyone found out what had happened. To this day, the others believe that The Husband had been half asleep when he served as an accomplice in this screw-driver crime because everyone sort of blamed him for giving this man his weapon. But he later confessed to me that none of those instances when he'd zoned out in front of me or The Bromance meant anything in light of this particular incident. And I completely agree, love. Nothing can match up to that story.
Seriously, how did I agree to marry you, again?
Because when he zones out, he's in a completely different world from ours, having real conversations with imaginary faceless yellow beasts (true story) and nothing but a serious physical change in his environment can bring him back. But he always comes back with new knowledge and proper theories because he'd been debating with his little imaginary friends. Imaginary friends he never outgrew. Oh, there it is again. The eye-rolling is back in full swing. Bear with me while I go into White Walker mode to type the rest of this rant. There have been times when I have tried to be annoying by dancing in front of the television screen, just to block his view. I wish he had seen it. There have been times when I finished an entire line of thought, a rant essentially, only to hear him say, "Um, go again?". There have also been times when he'd wake me up in the middle of the night to let me know that he had "the rest of the conversation" IN HIS HEAD and that he wasn't going to repeat all of it for my benefit later on. I didn't have to know that, Husband of Mine. I really didn't have to know that. Especially not at 3 in the morning. There have been times when I called after him to "lock that damn door" when he left for work. I would hear him open the door, close it behind him, AND WALK AWAY without locking it. On some days, I hear him walking right back after a few minutes to lock it. Because the screaming registered only a few minutes later. Oh, there have also been times when he's in that place which is not quite here nor there, when he's attempting to think but he can still hear me talk in the background so he goes, "Shhh shhhh shhhhhhhhh" while covering my entire face with his giant palm till he finishes that train of thought. Yes, you guessed right. I sit there, right next to him with his giant palm on my face, waiting for Sir ZonesOutALot to finish thinking. And the best part is when he puts that giant palm of his giant hand on my tiny elf-face even when I have been silent all along. I could be sitting there, minding my own business, reading a book or doing my nails, not making a single sound, but the hand would sure as hell, find it's place on my face and it will stay there till he finishes thinking. Story of my life. Still, not a better story than the screw-driver incident.