Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Jack & Jude

“Jack and Jude went up the hill.”
Jack’s 5347, and Jude’s 2909. Our cars.

“But I thought you said that the dog’s name is Jack?” (the dog-shaped cushion in my car)
“No, it’s Jack II now.”

What the?!

Just a sample of the many idiotic and crazy things that we say whenever we’re out. All these just seem to always leave us both laughing in stitches.

“Is nothing sacred?” I once asked her. A question that just continues to makes us sound like a couple of hyenas.

We really do laugh at the most inappropriate of things.

Once, just last couple of weeks ago, we went for a movie. After sending her home, I didn’t feel like leaving. So I was just in the car for while, stopped in front of her house.

Man, I really wanted to hold her hands. I don’t know what that might mean. Might just be a desperate call for affection. Nothing a big hug can’t fix. But holding hands, it’s different. It means something else. That you’re up another stage. Another level of intimacy, a change of the dimension of the relationship. You hug people in the clubs. You hug your friend when he’s about to leave to another country for studies. You hug someone on her birthday. But holding hands, it’s different.

I thought, nah. I shouldn’t pressure her into anything. To have another conversation when the last one was just a weekend ago was pushing it. Besides, that was the second of the conversations that I’ve been ‘cordially’ rejected.

So just as I was about to leave, she called me, wondering what I was up to still parked in front of her house. I said I wanted to see her. So she came back out, got into the car, and we had a long night of talking and just not talking. I always believed that if you’ve got lots of things to talk about- great. But if the two of you can feel comfortable with silence- that’s Golden.

So we sat in the car. She brought in some Japanese CD that she’s listening to recently.

“What do you think is the romantic scale on this song?” I asked out of the blue.

She, always the more matter-of-fact one, said, “What the? Romantic scale? If I know what he’s singing about, then I’d be able to say.” Then she forwarded to one of the songs which she thought was very nice. And she asked, “So, what about this song then?”

“Hmm, I’d say a 7 or 8.”
Pause.
“But you know what’d make it a 10?”
Pause.
“What?”
Long pause.

I held her hands.
Pause.

Nods her head, “Ten.”

Yeah, very romantic and all. When I told my friend bout this, he said he used almost the same phrases last time. which quashed my belief that what I said was quite creative and spontaneous. I’m mere average.

The thing is, just as I was holding her right hand with my left, whispering sweet nothings to each other, she pulled an appearing magic act with her left hand (which was hidden in her jacket sleeve).

Again, spontaneity.

I immediately threw her right hand away, “Hey! That one looks better!” and grabbed the other hand.

What the hey?

That’s the first time I asked, “Is nothing sacred?” amidst the laughter.

Hmnm, guess between us, nothing really is.