STRING THEORY
More Sean and Roisin
“Hey, Sean.”
“Joe.”
“What are you doing in Mulligan’s five o’clock on a Saturday? Don’t you have domestic matters to occupy you? Uh oh, don’t tell me - you’re in the dog house. What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. Ah, thanks, Pete, I’ll have a Jack Daniels, straight up.”
“Jaysus, Sean, you’re drinking American whiskey early on a Saturday evening? Whatever you did must have been heinous. You got a bit of fluff on the side Roisin found out about?”
“It’s nothing like that - but let me ask you - when someone says that’s OK, what would you take it to mean?”
Joe sips on his Guinness. “That depends on who’s saying it. Who said that’s OK?”
“Roisin. I explained to her I couldn’t take her and the kids to the beach as we’d planned. I’d forgotten we had a soccer game against the bloody Rathminers. I couldn’t let the side down. I’m the goalie. We argued and, finally, she says, that’s OK. So, I went off and played the game, which we won, incidentally, since I didn’t let in a single shot. I get home and no-one’s speaking to me.”
Joe lifts his eyebrows. “How long’ve you been married, Sean?”
“Seven years.”
“And you still haven’t learned that women don’t use language the same way we do? When a man says that’s OK, he means argument’s over, points have been made, no winners, no losers, let’s just get on with it. When a woman says that’s OK, man, you’re in a world of trouble.”
Sean glares at Joe and slurps his Jack Daniels. “What’s it mean when they say it, then?”
Joe winks at Pete. “That’s OK is one of the most dangerous statements a woman can make to a man. It means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when he will pay for what he did or, more likely, didn’t do.”
Pete nods in vigorous agreement.
Sean stares at him. “How am I supposed to know that?”
“You learn the hard way, like the rest of us.”
Sean is indignant. “So, when a woman says that’s OK, what she really means is….”
Joe nods, “What I just said.”
“That’s insane.”
Joe rolls his eyes at Pete. “Oh, now he’s looking for rationality. Good luck.”
“Excuse me for assuming my wife is capable of intelligent discourse.” Sean swallows the remainder of his Jack Daniels. “I mean, when I realized no-one was speaking to me, I asked her what was wrong – a perfectly reasonable question I thought, especially when your entire family walks out of the house to go for fish and chips and leaves you standing in the middle of the kitchen in a reeking soccer outfit. She says, “Nothing.” That’s it. ‘Nothing.’”
Joe rolls his eyes at Pete again. “Man, you’re like a blind man trying to feel his way around an elephant. When a woman says nothing, you may as well pack it up. Nothing is the calm before the storm. Nothing does not mean none, zero, nana. It means a great, big something and you’d better be on your toes.
“About what? I asked her what was wrong. She says nothing. What does that give me? So I say, OK, I’m glad to hear it. And then she says fine.”
Joe chokes into his Guinness. “She said fine? Oh, God, you didn’t say anything after that did you?”
“Of course I did. I reminded her that when I told her about the soccer game, she said that’s OK. So I go whistling off in my soccer outfit like I don’t have a care in the world, leaving behind, according to her, two destroyed children and one fire-breathing drag - wife.”
Pete shakes his head and Joe groans. “Sean, Sean. Fine, when uttered by a woman, means don’t argue with me because I’m right, you’re a first-class moron, and there’s absolutely nothing you can say at this point to earn my forgiveness."
Sean stares down into his empty glass, which Pete thoughtfully refills. Sean waves his hand in thanks. “I tell you this, when someone says one thing and means another, they need to be held accountable.”
Joe leans over and whispers, “That doesn’t apply to women, only to us.” He sits back. “She didn’t say whatever did she?”
“As a matter of fact, she did. I told her don’t tell me nothing when it’s obvious you’ve got your g-string in a twist about something, and don’t say fine when it isn’t.”
“That’s when she said whatever?”
“Well, no. I sort of figured out by then that when she said that’s OK for me to go off and play football, it wasn’t. So, I made a peace offering. I said how about I take everyone out for ice-cream? She says, don’t worry about it. I say I’m not worried about it, I simply want to treat everyone to an ice-cream to make up for having saved the game for the lads when I obviously should have been at the beach with you. She says the kids haven’t had dinner yet so they can’t have ice-cream. She’s already promised to take them for fish and chips, anyway. I say, great, just let me take a quick shower and change, we’ll all go. She repeats don’t worry about it. I might have got a bit hot under the collar at that and told her I had no idea why she was being so irrational. That’s when she says whatever and marches off with the kids.”
“Don’t give him anything more to drink, Pete. Now, listen to me, Sean. Based on fifteen years of learning the hard way, allow me to try to put a dent into that thick, Irish skull of yours. Don’t worry about it means she expected you to do something, which you didn’t do, so now she’ll take care of it herself. This inevitably results in a man asking what’s wrong, to which the inevitable reply is nothing which, as you know by now means something and you’d better be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine and fine means the argument is over because they’re right and you’re a moron. Unfortunately, you haven’t yet learned when to shut your gob, Sean, so you push things to the whatever stage. Whatever, in female lingo, means eff you. It’s usually preceded by a loud sigh. While a loud sigh isn’t actually a word, it’s a nonverbal statement that means why is she wasting her time standing there arguing with a moron about nothing. Nothing as you hopefully remember means something and you’d better be on your toes, and more often than not leads to fine which means the argument’s over because she’s right and you’re….”
Sean interrupts him. “I'm not an idiot. I do have a Ph.D. in physics.”
“When it comes to women, you can have degrees up the ying yang, it won’t help. Trying to understand a woman is like trying to understand String Theory.”
“I happen to understand String Theory.”
“Well, good for you. So go home and say, oh, hi, Roisin. you have to forgive me all my trespasses because I understand String Theory.” Joe pats Sean on the shoulder. “Finish your drink, go home, tell Roisin you’re sorry, and get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness.”
“For what?”
“For being an eejit with a Ph. D. in physics. Honest to God, I don’t know how she puts up with you. Get her some flowers - and don’t ask what’s wrong because you’ll only get nothing and we all know that nothing means…….”
“Don't start! You’re giving me a migraine! Next time I ask Roisin what’s wrong and she says nothing, I’m going to explain String Theory to her so she can tell me which effing dimension she lives in. Give me one for the road, Pete. Is there some place around here I can buy a dozen roses?”