Giraffes, Concert Tickets, and One Fried Lawyer

I know. Sounds like an awfully odd combination. I promise to connect the dots. Hang on.

When The Lawyer and I started dating and he would purchase me a gift, whether large or small, significant or just cute, he’d usually send me a text. “I got you something.” Then a fun game of 20 questions would ensue. Silly man, at first he’d play along, slipping unknowingly into my web of distractions until I’d guess the gift. He has become older and wiser since then. But I still have my Spidey senses, and they do not wane. He does not crack, does not play the game, does not give up the goods. And yet, I often still win. So let me tell you a few, of many, little stories and let you see how this all comes together. I’m still laughing about it all, but mostly laughing at how fried he is. I keep telling him it’s the only thing I beat him at, so I get to relish in it and laugh all I want. He just gives me the look. Then I laugh at that.

It all kind of started on a weekend trip to Fernandina Beach, where we wandered into this kitschy little shop full of all kinds of eclectic oddities. Books, vintage clothes, a few really weird things, chotchkes, and a taller-than-me skinny wooden carved giraffe with funky painted colors and design. I loved it! Really funky, bright, so unique – and pricey. We looked at it, touched it, debated over it, but ultimately decided to leave it in its current home. It was a touch too funky to go with the style of our home, and a bit too pricey for the amount of funk. I wasn’t too sad over it, and we agreed we’d keep our eyes open for something similar.

So a few weeks later I was at work, consulting with my client Beverly, and on the way to the shampoo bowl I got a text from The Lawyer. “I got you something.” The game had begun. I shot back a few questions, which he made the mistake of answering. Bigger than a breadbox, made of wood, blah, blah, blah. I just needed a couple minutes to think. Then, as I was massaging Beverly’s head,  it suddenly came to me like a rain on the Serengeti. “Beverly, hold still. Don’t go anywhere. I gotta do something.” (Like she was really gonna go somewhere with bubbles on her head) (She was a good sport when I told her the entire story) I grabbed my phone and faster than a cheetah across the plain I googled “photo of giraffe,” picked the one that was the most smart-alec-looking face of a giraffe I could find, and texted it to The Lawyer.

Then I waited.

It took about 8.6 seconds for the reply. I can’t put in print here what it said, after all, this is a family friendly blog. Suffice, I’m pretty sure I heard him yell all the way down Capital Circle.

I was , apparently, correct.

Then months later, weeks maybe, I don’t rightly remember, he came into the laundry room where I was dutifully taking care of salon towels and told me to mark off certain dates on my calendar. “Oooooo where we going?” I asked. He just chuckled. He wasn’t going to tell me anything. You know, that “fool me once” thing, or something like that. But he couldn’t help himself. I started asking questions, he started answering. I can’t remember exactly how many clues he gave or what exactly they were, but they were one too many. Story of his life.

I think I ended up knowing that either we were going to the Northeast, or maybe he even said Canada, but wouldn’t tell me why. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. What matters is this. I remembered that I had, almost in passing, mentioned that I’d love to see P!nk in concert. I don’t remember what he said that put me on that freight train to Toronto, but when he left the laundry room and left me in peace to do my women’s work, I googled P!nk concert dates and blessed behold, as Reva would say, sister was gonna be in Toronto the exact dates he told me to take off work.

I giggled.

Then I waited for him to come back to the laundry room. With as straight a face as I could muster ( a MOST difficult task for me) I calmly, cooly, said, “so, what time does the P!nk concert start?”

Again with me not being able to repeat what he said.

He. Was. Fried.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

I was, apparently, correct.

Then, there was the time he was surprising me with a trip to Mount Rushmore. Can’t remember what he slipped to make me know it was there, but oh, I knew. We went back and forth for probably two or three weeks, until one day when he was having a procedure and the “conscious sedation,” aka truth serum, took effect. Sang like a canary, he did. And again, of course, I was correct. He had a trip to Mount Rushmore on the books. I had been “guessing” that for days on end, and he just kept denying. Lawyer face, and all. Doesn’t matter … I was right.

So you can see the pattern here, can you not? He lets one too many a clue out of the bag and I’m on it. I’m a girl. It’s what we do.

Brings us to the here and now.

In the last few months I’ve been trying to turn The Lawyer on to a new artist, Teddy Swims. I love Teddy’s music – both his covers and originals – and I think The Lawyer appreciates his talent, too, the little bit he’s heard. And again, in passing, I’ve mentioned that I’d love to see him in concert one day. I’ve checked the schedule a few times over the last year, but he’s never close to home, or he’s completely out of the country. I kind of gave up looking through the holiday season, put it on the back burner, figured it would happen when it happened to happen.

At the same time, The Lawyer had a companion plane ticket he needed to book or lose by December 31st. He’d asked me if there was anywhere I’d like to go, but I didn’t really have an overwhelming desire. We’re taking a really big trip in the spring, so I haven’t been focused on anything else. Of course there are a few places I’ve mentioned over the last couple years – Boston, New Orleans, New England area – but nothing I felt like pushing. Again, it’ll happen when it happens.

And it just so happened that The Lawyer casually strolled into “my office” in the house (you know, the one I commandeered when I moved in) and ever so casually said, “mark these dates off on your calendar.” Ooooooo, here we go again! “Where we going?” “NOT BLANKETY BLANK GONNA TELL YA!” Hahahaa we’ll see about that.

I may have begged him for just one hint, which, silly man, HE GAVE ME! Will he never learn?!?! Even ONE hint is one too many. But, he did it. “Not Boston.” That’s it. That’s all I got. No worries. That’s plenty to work with. I asked him about the weather, truly so I’d know how to pack, and he assured me he’d give me that information when the time was right. But other than that, he was done.

Or, was he?

Well, he may have been, but I assure you I was not.

I didn’t dwell on it, really, I back-pocketed it and went about my business. Until that fateful day. During the blur of the holidays I found myself at “my desk” working to close out my books for the year, listening to the music streaming on my phone, when a Teddy Swims song came on. “Huh,” I thought to myself, “I should see if he’s got any more concert dates on his website. It’s been awhile since I’ve looked.” So I did. And blessed behold, as Reva would say, Teddy is going to be in Jacksonville on our wedding anniversary. Now, the dates The Lawyer told me to mark off aren’t until August, so certainly our anniversary in the Spring may be an option for a concert. So I looked, explored the venue a little, checked the prices, (swallowed hard on that one) and decided I’d ask him if he’d made any plans at all for our anniversary.

Then it hit me.

What if he got us Teddy Swims tickets in August?!? This could be epic in the battle of wits. I hurriedly scrolled to Teddy’s August dates, and BLESSED BEHOLD, AS REVA WOULD SAY, Teddy is going to be in TEXAS in August.

Bingo. Far enough to fly, close enough to do in a weekend.

The Lawyer would definitely take me to Texas for a concert – he’s done it before. So why wouldn’t he now?!? But now, NOW the game strategy must take on a higher level. I can’t just blurt it out like I have in the past. I must calculate, formulate a game plan, win this battle. I wanted so badly to text him and let him know that I knew, but for once in my life I showed restraint. I conjured up every little bit of patience I had in every cell of my body, and dang was that hard, but I did it, and I waited. Mostly I was driven by the desire to see the look on his face and hear the joyous expletives which were sure to come forth. Always a good time.

I held my ground until the next evening at dinner; gave me time to rehearse my lines and not laugh. That’s a tough one for me. But the work paid off. As we sat, eating our salad and sandwich, (dinner of champions) I casually asked, “Have you made any plans for our anniversary? I mean, I know we’ll be just getting back from our big trip and all, but I didn’t know if anything had crossed your mind yet.” He answered in the negative. Excellent. I came back with, “Well, I happened to be looking at the Teddy Swims website for concert dates, and though he’s spending a good part of the year in the UK, he’s actually going to be in Jacksonville ON our anniversary. I’d love to go if we can make it work. What do you think about that?”

He just stared at me. No expression. Absolutely none. To the point of it being a little odd. So I pressed on in my quest to set him up like a boss. Oh, he asked about seats and prices and I told him I hadn’t explored that much of the website but I was happy to do so if he thought we might could go. And that’s when he finally said, with a most disgusted, ticked off, can’t-believe-this-is-happening look on his face, “No, I don’t believe we can do that because we’re going to see him in August.”

I busted.

“I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW YOU HAD PLANNED THAT!! I SET YOU UP SO PERFECTLY!!”

And I laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. Oddly, I was the only one at the table laughing. I just don’t understand why he didn’t think it was funny in the least. I could hardly breathe. He was so incredibly torqued, which, of course, made it ALL the funnier. Bless his heart. Then he started with the, “I didn’t give you any clue other than ‘not Boston,’ and you STILL got it.” And I cannot repeat anything else he said. He. Was. Fried.

And I was still laughing.

So, as I sit and reminisce about the fabulous P!nk concert, stare at this gorgeous ring on my finger with which he proposed marriage at Mount Rushmore, giggle as I look across the room at the six-foot beautifully hand-carved giraffe next to the fireplace, I look forward with the anticipation of laughing all the way to Texas to see Teddy Swims. If this man never does another sweet thing for me, he’s given me enough to last a lifetime. Thank you, Lawyer, for loving me so well and spoiling me. You make it great fun.

And funny.