This is an early argument that a friend reminder me of, that I had all but forgot.
And it involves my favorite couple.
The Evil Couple.
For those new to the blog, the Evil Couple are simply a couple that comes into Starbucks near my office andhas the most uncomfortable arguments where Mrs, Evil treats Mr. Evil (And everyone else around) like shit she found on her shoe. My favorite description is that she treats you like a moron and she is sick of your shit. That little statement is as accurate now as when I first wrote it.
As a visual, Mr. Evil is a doctor (Always wearing scrubs), he has a local practice in Manhattan Beach. He is mid 40’s to 50’s, good looking, and you would trust your health to him.
Mrs. Evil is a conundrum that confuses and delights me, excites and shames me.
She is mid to late 30’s. She wears thick gray sweats, the kind that muscle guys in the 70’s wore, an over sized t-shirt without a bra. Watching her for a few seconds tells you this. When she turns to the side and her breasts (Impressive DD’s) take a second to catch up, you know something is up. Her hair would be long and blond, however, it is never styled and is worn in kind of a low rise blond afro.
This was the only way I have ever seen her dress.
Until recently. Apparently, she is in real estate, and when she is dressed up for work, I have not seen a woman this stunning for a long time.
When she rips into her husband or anyone around her, the entire encounter is made that much more evil by the fact that she has a Russian accent. It shouldn’t, but it does make a difference.
Enough background, on with the shit.
They were waiting for me when I got to Starbucks. The gods smiled and the table next to them was open.
Good. I hate trying to listen in from a few tables away.
Rude? Yes. Fascinating? Absolutely.
Anyway, the argument was just warming up when I got there.
The twins, it seems, were just starting a new school and the question was, “Should they be in the same class?”
“They will be picked on if they are apart, you know this.” Mrs. Evil has a way of ending her sentance that seems to imply that you are simply confused.
“They need to learn to rely on themselves, not on each other.” He is the calm cool voice of reason.
And she could care less.
“Why is it so important to you that they be unhappy?” He voice can drip sarcasm like no other.
“I don’t want them to be unhappy. Miss Cormack said-”
“She was a whore of a teacher, she spent so much time trying to show you her tits. She was a pig.” She finished with a definitive sip of her latte.
Mr. Evil says nothing. What do you say, really? The argument has shifted from arguing about the classroom assignments of the kids, to whether or not their old teacher (?) was a whore. I am a little shocked she hasn’t accused him of sleeping with her.
“I never noticed that sort of behavior.” Mr. Evil’s voice takes on the tone of someone that knows he is fucked, no matter where it goes from here.
“You loved it, go lie to someone else.”
I spoke too soon. I need to be more patient.
His phone chirps like a boon from the gods. The tension seems to breaks a bit.
They begin texting for a few minutes as if they are not in the middle of an argument.
And maybe they aren’t.
Maybe this is the way they interact on the day to day. A friend of mine once gave the opinion that she does this to drive their sex life, and that she must go with him to work and have make up sex either in the elevator or in his office.
At first, I dismissed such a twisted scenario. Maybe there is more to it than I saw then. Maybe twisted is how you have to view it. You have to twist yourself up or it makes no sense.
To quote Mr. Spock, “In an insane society, a sane man must be viewed as insane.”
God, I miss Star Trek.