I'm going to tell you this story so I can tell you another
one.
Mr. and Mrs. Snark have not always been married. In fact,
they met a little bit later in life at a party thrown by Mrs. Snark's
ex-husband. At this time, Mrs. Snark retained the
disillusionment-with-men-and-marriage of all recent divorcees.
However, Mr. Snark was a man on the make and he managed to
acquire Mrs. Snark's email address. Allegedly, Mrs. Snark gave him the wrong
email address, but like all horny software engineers, Mr. Snark employed All
Powerful Google to find the correct one.
Mrs. Snark agreed to a first date, which went well, and a
second one soon followed. On their first date, Mr. Snark announced that he had
just purchased a racing bike. Mrs. Snark, who worked as an automotive claims
adjuster and had heard many motorcycle accident stories, regarded him
dubiously. If this man can be
domesticated, that motorcycle must go, she said to herself.
Eventually, Mr. Snark invited Mrs. Snark back to his
place—boasting he would prepare a meal for her. As soon as she was left alone
in the kitchen, Mrs. Snark did what any woman would do and snooped in the
fridge. Mr. Snark only had apple juice
boxes, bottles of beer, and a jar of olives in his refrigerator… Egads, add in the fact that the man is over
forty and domesticating him appears to be an impossible task.
Mr. Snark owned an amazing cookware set, including a rack
for hanging the gleaming stainless steel pots from the ceiling. Altogether, he had
all the makings of a gourmet kitchen. The
man must be an amazing chef, Mrs. Snark thought. Maybe there's hope for him yet.
In reality, Mr. Snark is a disaster in the kitchen. The man
has zero culinary skills to speak of, so Mrs. Snark wound up preparing that meal
in the interest of having edible food to consume.
Mr. Snark had been a bachelor for a long time and so he had
more than just a man cave. Mr. Snark owned many expensive toys. He had an
entire house to himself, filled with man stuff, including a bedroom converted
to a computer cathedral and another used as a theater room. His enormous couch
was stylish but lacked even a single throw pillow as a nod to creature
comforts.
Mrs. Snark knew she had her work cut out for her, but the
man loved Babylon 5 (and owned
freakin' FANTASTIC pots), so he had potential. She took him to Bed, Bath and Beyond to purchase throw
pillows.
Now, taking a bachelor shopping for throw pillows early on
in the relationship is a good way of determining whether he's worth continuing
to date. First, he must be willing to spend his own money on making his man
cave more comfortable and attractive to the female he's courting. Second, it's
a test of his character. If he kicks and screams and acts childish, then he's
probably not a keeper.
Mr. Snark passed the throw pillow test with flying colors.
As Mr. Snark carried piles of throw pillows into the house, an older gentleman,
one of Mr. Snark's married neighbors, looked on. "I see she's taken to
domesticating you," he said with an amused smile.
Mr. Snark's furry brow knit and he looked down at the
pillows with an expression of belated realization. "Yeah, I guess
so," he said.
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