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And the beat goes on ...

Dec 09, 1996 04:22 PM
by Art House

A friend sent this to us.  We thought you'd like it:


Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He
asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A
few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy
themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while
neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to
Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize
that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very
loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him
that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship;
maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that
he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, either.  Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so
I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the
way we are, moving steadily toward ... I mean, where are we going? Are
we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are
we heading toward marriage? Toward children?  Toward a lifetime
together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know
this person?

And Roger is thinking: ... so that means it was ... let's see
.February when we started going out, which was right after I had the
car at the shop last, which means ...  lemme check the odometer ...
Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm
reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our
relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed --
even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I
bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his
own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission
again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting
right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this
time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting
like a goddamn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent bastards

And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry,
too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help
the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day
warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, those scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next
to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I
truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person
who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a
goddamn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their

"Roger," Elaine says aloud.

"What?" says Roger, startled.

"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning
to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have ... Oh God, I feel so

(She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says Roger.

"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I
really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says Roger.

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that ... It's that I ... I need some time,"  Elaine says.

(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that
he thinks might work.)

"Yes," he says.

(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."

(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to
become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it
involves a horse. At last she speaks.)

"Thank you, Roger," she says.

"Your welcome" says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured
soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place,
he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes
deeply involved in reruns.  A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind
tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but
he's pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand it, and so he
figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's
policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of
them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In
painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything
he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word,
expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every
possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off
and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite
conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.

Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend
of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:

"Norm, did Elaine ever have a horse?"

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