It's been two weeks since I broke things off with the Highlander. It's taken me these two weeks to be able to talk about something that happened that final, fateful weekend with High. See, I have a thing for nerds. But this Incident pushed me way, waaaaay past my nerd limit. We'll call it The Walkie-Talkie Incident.
Before leaving for the beach, High showed me some walkie-talkies that he had picked up along the way and had never used. He may have suggested we each keep one, since we only lived 1.3 miles apart, and the walkie-talkies were supposed to work up to 3 miles, so we could talk to each other while we were in our own homes. I reminded him of the invention of the telephone and chose to ignore the statement.
The walkie-talkies were out of sight and mind until we were driving down to the beach. My iPod/radio transmitter needed new batteries, and he announced that he had them. I was rather shocked to learn that he carries batteries on him, until he whipped out the walkie-talkies to borrow their batteries. It seemed harmless enough, bringing walkie-talkies to the beach, but then things got out of control. When we stopped to get gas and go to the bathroom, he tried to insist that I take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. You know, in case anything were to happen. It was 4:00 in the afternoon, and we were at a busy highway gas station. I thought surely he was joking, but he wasn't. He was dead serious. Needless to say, I refused to take the walkie-talkie into the bathroom with me. I got him off my back by telling him that I would turn it on so he could hear me peeing. Or that I would throw it in the toilet.
When we got to the beach and he immediately took off, as he had no interest in actually being at the beach, he of course took a walkie-talkie with him and left one with me. Then he proceeded to annoy me from within a 3-mile radius with constant, mundane updates while I was trying to read my beachy chick-lit. My enjoyment of the latest Meg Cabot was interupted by such uninspired musings as "I'm sitting on a bench under some trees. It's really nice over here," or "Hey, I'm standing here watching some tiny crabs. They're all over the place!" (We were at the beach!) Then he tried to engage me in some conversation and couldn't figure out why I didn't have much to say. Are you kidding me? A casual chat via the walkie-talkie? Maybe if someone would have actually been sitting next to me on the beach blanket instead of trying to talk to me from a bench in the woods, I would have been a bit more chatty. I was never sure what my nerd limit was, but now I know, and this is definitely it.
Upon my return home, I casually left the walkie-talkie part out of my story, mainly because I think I was trying to block it out. Now, however, I realize its comic value. I mean, really. Walkie-talkies in the bathroom?
1 comment:
I don't know, I really liked walkie talkies...when I was 10. Maybe he was just reminiscing of the good old days when walkies were the only way to communicate within a 1.5 mile radius. HOG found walkies in his basement and wanted to see how far they went. Luckily I no longer lived close to him and he forgot about them quickly.
As a self described nerd lover, its about time you reached your limit.
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