Father's Day Brunch

Nothing like Father's Day brunch with M&M to remind Atticus Finch, my sister-in-law, my spouse roommate and me how lucky we are to have them as parents and in-laws. Atticus Finch chose a local little cafe to have brunch at in M squared' honor. After the initial discussion regarding menu options, M announced that she would not be eating but would just order a coffee. This did not shock any of the respective parties. For, as far as all of us can remember, M has never consumed a meal, at least in public. Atticus Finch wanted to order a sandwich with tomato on it, but M informed Atticus Finch and the rest of the table that he simply can not as yesterday a tomato caused M squared to suffer from diarrhea. There, there M squared, I am glad you could rise to the occasion for your family.

Regardless, the major discussion is not so much what happened over the course of brunch, but what proceeded it in the newly weds apartment. (For the record, if my future roommates ever reads my blog, I just wanted to let you know, D, that you should not take this at all personally. M&M have nothing, really, against homosexuals. However, you might not know this much if you overheard this discussion.) I explained to M&M that one of my future flat mates,D, who I think is just delightful, is a lesbian. This does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, I celebrate it and wish I was one. When D dropped the L bomb on me, I was quick to respond with a "good for you" and reinforce this with "one more year single in this city and I will also be a homosexual." When I explained to M&M how adorable D is and that she is very bright; graduate from Carnegie Melon and computer engineer, M&M were quick to tell me that all female computer engineers are lesbians and went to Carnegie Melon. Why? Because mainly all computer lesbian engineers like Pennsylvania. This is actually very ironic. Let me explain. You see, after my freshman year when I had failed to meet a husband at age nineteen, M&M practically forced me to go to Carnegie Melon where I had been accepted as a transfer student (As in M&M filled out a transfer application and sent it to this institution). Of course, I did not allow them to proceed with this arrangement, but it had little to do with lesbians. It actually had more to do with the fact that I was happy to not be married at age nineteen. In retrospect it is a good thing that I did not go because not only would I end up single, I would end up a lesbian computer engineer.

What never ceases to amaze me however is that M&M, despite all evidence to the contrary, obviously, think of me as being exceptionally vulnerable. It is true that I have a few mishaps in my life that generally do not happen to the lucky; i.e. I broke my jaw my sophomore year in college after a serious bout of tonsillitis, I was hit by a drunk driver my third year in law school. This all might be true, but it is not like every moment I walk outside the apartment I have been raped and or in near danger of being raped. Let me clarify this for you M&M, no one is raping me. Quite to the contrary, no one has sex with me, and vise versa, unless both parties are quite inebriated. In a sense, this is not voluntary, but it is consensual. Therefore, you need not worry that D, my one hundred pound roommate, is going to come into my room with a strap on and rape me. In fact, I am not entirely sure I am her type and she is in a relationship. This is similar to your line of thinking that I have had a hundred marriage proposals and have rejected them all. NO! NO! NO!

Regardless, an hour was devoted to how I am not going to escape the various sexual threats I am going to have to deal with on a daily basis. While M squared did not really think that there was a serious problem, M thought that perhaps I might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As in, oh I just might happen to be in D's room while she is having sex with her girlfriend and oh, they ask me to join. YES, very likely possiblity. However, do not worry everyone. M has come up with a solution: The moment I enter the apartment I must falsely announce to everyone that I have AIDS. Then, no one will touch me.