Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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The Way He Is/The Way I Am

Most every day I load Violet into our SUV to meet up with Serge in the parking lot of the news station where I work.  The Violet Shuffle.  He's just getting off work and I'm going in.  We generally roll up to the station at different times and end up waiting a few minutes for the other to arrive.

I prep Violet to see her pop like Mickey gearing Rocky Balboa up for the big fight with that one guy.  Or that other guy.  The Russian one.  "Where's daddy?  Can you see daddy?"  She looks so hard, craning her neck, by the time we actually pull up next to her old man she's nearly screaming with delight.

So this afternoon we're on the freeway, I glance over and there's Serge, keeping pace with us in his car, grinning away like a cheshire cat.  I don't know what it is about seeing someone you know on the freeway, especially when you're going to meet up with them in just a few seconds, but there it is.  It's just kind of exciting, no?  Like running into a friend while on vacation or something.  Kind of.  But anyway.

"Look Violet, there's daddy!" 

She looks out the window and begins screaming and waving.  Serge is so thrilled by her reaction that he's hanging halfway out the window waving back.  I mean, seriously.  He's grinning so big the corners of his lips are touching his earlobes and he's waving so hard he could land planes and shit. 

As a result, he ends up keeping pace with us longer than he deems safe.  Remember now, this is the guy that taped black foam around our fireplace in case Violet trips in the vicinity.  So right now, as he's keeping pace with us at 70 miles an hour on the freeway, I can see he's torn.  On the one hand he wants to please Violet more than anything, on the other hand OH MY GOD THE DANGER!  THE UNBELIEVABLE DANGER!  THIS CAN'T BE SAFE!  MONICA IS GOING TO CRASH!  SHE CAN'T POSSIBLY DRIVE NEXT TO ME AT THE SAME SPEED!  WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!  AND ALSO? SALMONELLA AND BOTULISM!  THE THREAT IS REAL, PEOPLE! 

I can see the nervousness written all over his face which of course excites me even more because I love nothing better than messing with him, testing his limits.  Like that one time when we hiked a frozen snow slide in a nearby canyon.  There I was, scaling icy cliffs as city boy held tightly to a downed tree and begged me to come back down because THIS CAN'T BE SAFE!

Like, seriously?  Aren't you supposed to be a carefree rock'n'roll dude that snorts coke off the asses of sexy groupies and beds beguiling babes on the road?

Ultimately his safe side (of course) wins out and Serge taps his breaks to signal that this?  This little freeway reunion is over and I should focus on the road and continue on ahead.  Instead of doing that I tap my breaks so we slow up with Serge.  Then I yell to Violet, "Look Violet, there's daddy!"  Now we're driving next to each other again and Violet's grinning and waving.  How can he resist?

The conflict in Serge's face makes me giggle evilly.

He's waving at Violet but I can tell he's no longer into it.  He's got to focus on the road!  Ten and two dammit! 

So he tries to slow down and let us go ahead again.  And I slow down again, forcing him to divide his time between Violet and the road while wondering if I'm going to crash in a fiery ball of wreckage.  Just to fuck with him, of course. 

What?  It's how I get my kicks.  Tomorrow I'm going to put an opened can of peaches in the fridge because oh my god, to hear Serge tell it we'll all be dead from Botulism by Monday. 

See?  Isn't this fun?

Reader Comments (8)

hahahaha this post cracked me up! there are no open cans in my fridge either, because i am in the "zomg, botulism" brigade, and my husband seems to share your sadistic streak :-) good fun!

October 8, 2010 | Unregistered Commenteranother monica

this is my relationship to.a.T. except sans child.

October 8, 2010 | Unregistered Commentermr

You guys make me happy!

October 8, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMichele

Hahaha. How did you two find eachother...I mean I know, I've read it. I guess the real question should be, how did you guys not find eachother sooner? You're perfect together. so perfect it's effin retarded.

October 8, 2010 | Unregistered Commenteramber

I've got a little vertigo and back seat driver anxiety from this description here!

So then, Monica, you would be the Del Griffith and Serge, the Neil Page of this relationship...

and when you get home later does he remember these things and lecture you? oh....wait...he's sleeeeeeping!.
"Those aren't pillows! "

I always get the lecture, usually about my seat belt, since it betrays me while I am talking on the phone while driving!!

:) cute post.

October 8, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterGina

Oh my goodness! Okay, my post has NOTHING to do with your post (but it did make me laugh) but I am so excited I stumbled across your blog. I used to read you years ago, like when you were in NYC (we have a mutual connection/friend from the Marah years) and life got busy and I lost you. But I did think of you every time I get waxed! (Weird, I know but you are so talented at writing you created a very real memory - well sort of 'cause I wasn't there but feel like I was). Anywho...the other day on the subway something triggered my brain about the roast beef vajajay and show and tell party and I could not stop giggling. My seat neighbor actually got up an moved. And then this morning, not even looking and here you are!! Feels like an old friend unexpectedly moved into my neighbor.

Alright, I am starting to feel like my gushing is sliding into stalking, so gonna wrap this up but so glad you are still writing.

October 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commentercolleen

This made me laugh out loud. I love it! And I don't want to sound like a creepy stalker or anything (cause I'm totally not!) but your little girl is definitely one of the cutest little dolls I've ever seen! I'm such a sucker for a head full of curls. :D

October 11, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterRebecca

Hi-I stumbled on your blog via a post from Katie Granju's blog. I've spent far too much time over the weekend reading your story, the ballad of Monica and Serge. It broke my heart.

Thanks for writing all that down.

October 11, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterWatching the fan spin

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