Jack and I had a big old fashioned fight today. Names were called and in the end I was right. That’s cool, because I got to walk away in a huff and slam his door loud and hard, so hard it shook Rockefeller Center. A good door slam is an argument orgasm. It’s the grand finale, an explanation point to end all rebuttal sentences, and my lordy what an extremely satisfactory way to end things. Another moment like that and I might start smoking again.
I like to imagine that during this final punctuation mark of mine, there was some sound tech flunkie (a la John Travolta’s character in Brian DePalma’s Blow Out) waiting in the wings trying to capture the perfect door slam to dub in his new movie and yesterday was his coup d’état. His grand triumph; perfect and exhilarating. SLAM!
A few minutes later, Jack and I were just as civil as we ever were. Him talking lewdly of sex with his wife (or the lack thereof) and me oohing and ahhing as though everything he says is spun gold. It is kind of nice to be able to express such immediate frustration in an immediate way then immediately get over it. Especially since I was right.
USDS Champion ’03 and Right.