On our latest vacation to Arizona and New Mexico, Husband and I stopped to visit friends of ours from New York who had recently relocated to a town outside Phoenix. They are a lovely couple, good-hearted and well meaning, and a little to the left of quirky. The wife is a spiritually psychic type who sees metaphysical auras surrounding all living things, and has long considered herself a witch. We’ll call her Samantha. That means her husband, being your standard issue hapless mortal, gets to be Darrin.
They gave us a tour of their strikingly gorgeous new home, and chided us for choosing a hotel over their guest room. Husband responded that we are hotel people, not guest room people, a preference that in no way translates as an insult to them. To say nothing of the fact they have TWO cats, meaning double the hives for me. Samantha assured me I would never know there were cats in her house, and guaranteed I wouldn’t feel any indication of their presence, a conversation that took place as we walked past the litter box. It crossed my mind that I would enjoy sharing that bit of irony with my own coven, if I had a coven.
The tour completed, Husband suggested we all depart for a nice brunch, since my comfort level in their house with the invisible cats had reached its threshold. Samantha expressed disappointment at not being given the opportunity to feed us from her kitchen, and promised she knew how to make me forget my allergy. She waved her arms in a way that made me think she planned to either hypnotize me, or levitate the dander off the cats and down the garbage disposal. The vision ended when Husband said, “No, we’re all going out. I’ll get the car.” You go, guy.
At the new wave, Arizona healthy fusion restaurant, Samantha turned to me and lowered her voice in concern. She said this was a difficult moon cycle for Taurus health-wise, and I shouldn’t cancel any doctor appointments. I told her I’d seen plenty of doctors, and in fact, recently had a hernia operation. She smacked her hand on the table and said, “I knew it! I knew you’re an Earth Sign and you had to be careful. The midsection is the Taurus center of weakness.”
Busy talking to Darrin and unaware of our conversation, Husband rose to excuse himself to the men’s room, and Samantha spun to face him.
SAM: Have you had your prostate checked?
HUSBAND: What? (looking around) Did you just ask me about my prostate?
SAM: You’re a Taurus, too. I noticed you went to the bathroom at our house before we left. Frequent urination is a sign of a weak prostate.
HUSBAND: You’re charting my pees now?
SAM: I need you to know that as the planets are currently aligned, Taurus is ruled by Venus —
HUSBAND: Hey, just because ‘Venus’ rhymes with ‘penis’ doesn’t mean you get to ask about mine.
Husband looked at me, and I gestured to my stomach saying, “We just did my hernia, so I guess it’s your turn.”
SAM: (turning back to me) It’s the whole midsection, not just your abdomen. You have to watch your breasts. Are you watching your breasts?
HUSBAND: I’m watching her breasts. I’m watching them very closely.
OSV: He really is. It’s like they’re television, but without the remote.
Despite the inquisition, brunch was great. It was wonderful to see our friends again and hear their New York accent ring out among the cacti. When we dropped them off at their house, they asked if we needed to come in before our long ride to Albuquerque. Husband and I gave each other a quick look, acknowledging that beyond their front door lay three bathrooms and two furry cats. We waved out the window heartily and drove off.
Daughter’s Featured Fotos offer us Urban Perspectives: Concrete and Conceptual
building tetris
roof tops
