A Girl...

Diff'rent Strokes

Last week while the BART train was stopped at a station, two guys came tearing down the platform and jumped into the car I was on. There was fighting and struggling and yelling; it turns out one of them was trying to steal the other one's laptop.

Even though the train car was filled with rush-hour commuters, the would-be thief didn't run away or hide his face or try to escape now that he'd reached a dead end. No, he held tight to the computer as the rightful owner hugged it to his chest and tried to wrest himself and his property away. It was a commotion all right, and I wondered if I should pull out my iPod earbuds and do something about it. But, of course, I didn't. I sat there and listened to my music and watched the scene unfold like it was a movie and I was just an audience.

Simon, I think, would have done something. I don't know if he'd have strode over and taken the perpetrator in a half-nelson or if he'd just get on his cell phone to the authorities. I'm pretty sure, though, that he would have done something. He has what I call the "Save the World Gene."

When a truck is pulled over on the side of the freeway and smoke is tumbling from its engine, he calls 911. When someone has a flat tire, he changes it. When a car accident happens right in front of him (three times this week!), he pulls over, takes some pictures for evidence, and hands out his business card in case anyone needs his witness statement.*

I, on the other hand, have the "Don't Get Involved Gene." When someone is having a seizure on the sidewalk, I look the other way. When I see a guy at the gas station smack his dog on the head with his fist, I convince myself it's none of my business. I suck, I know, and, sadly, I'm probably in the majority.

You might suspect that this is yet another entry with a subtext of "Simon is perfect," but it's not. Stay with me.

When two people fall in love, there generally comes a time in their relationship when they look lovingly into each other's eyes and discuss in obnoxious detail and to extreme exhaustion just how much more special and unique and deep their love is compared to everyone else's lackluster, lame, run-of-the-mill love. Heloise and Abelard have nothing on us, baby. It turns out that being a Special Someone often has a side-effect of making us self-important and self-congratulatory, with an inflated sense of our own greatness. Whatever the we have in our relationship seems to be the end-all, be-all of everything, and anyone who has anything different must necessarily be falling short.

Regarding my relationship with Simon, the one thing I've been particularly self-important and self-congratulatory about is how similar we are--our philosophies, our attitudes, our demeanors, our idea of a good time. The fact that I think this similarity is the single biggest factor in our success as a couple in turn has led me to be self-righteous and judgemental about people who claim to have found love in their "exact opposite." They're all "I'm crazy and high-maintenance and he's calm and easy-going, and we balance each other out!" and I'm all "Whatever. Being the same is waaay better. You wish you were me." I know, I suck.

But luckily, I am aware of my suckage and therefore can attempt to remedy it, and in this case, I've started to pay closer attention to the ways in which Simon and I are dissimilar, just to prove to myself that different can be good too. Can't you hear me now: "The reason we get along so well is because we're so different! We balance each other out! We are waaay better than people who are similar!"

And yet...While I enjoy recognizing the places where Simon and I diverge, I'm not quite convinced that those are the strongest links in our chain; I still think we're best where we align, and I know for certain our relationship could never hold together through sheer force of yin-yang. Why? Because I'm not sure his Save the World Gene needs to be tempered by my Don't Get Involved Gene. When it comes to being a Citizen of the World and practicing social responsibility on a community level, I think he's the better person and I should learn from it. I think there should be more out there like him. I think if we all had to be the same flavor of Sneetch, we should be Save the World Sneetches.

All that said, there's a few things Perfect Simon could stand to learn from me. Like how to cover your ass. When we were out throwing eggs on Monday, I was nervous we were going to get in trouble. For what, I don't know exactly--littering? Curfew? All I know is that the law frowns on mischief, even the harmless variety. "We need a plan in case the fuzz tries to bust us," I said. Simon rolled his eyes. If I'd had a cap on, I'd have pulled it down low over my eyes while I whispered the following: "Here's what we'll say if the police come: We'll say we are a poor, childless couple and we want a baby ever so badly but have thus far been unable to conceive, and so we got these special eggs blessed by a fertility guru, because, get it?, eggs, and now we have to hold this special moonlight ceremony to release them out into the universe so they will make our loins fruitful and thereby ensure the continuation of a strong and noble lineage and...What? We have to be prepared; when doing something naughty, it's good to have your lies in order beforehand in case we're taken in for questioning and put in separate cells."

*blink blink*

"What?! I'm just saying..."

"You're never 'just saying...'"

"I just don't want our babies to be born in prison, that's all."**

*I actually wrote this post yesterday afternoon, and not three hours later we were driving home when an SUV stopped next to us at a crosswalk got rearended. Simon pulled over, handed out his business card, and then made a note to self on his mini voice recorder about the time, location, and specifics of the accident just in case he needs the details for a witness report. It was then that I told him that just a few hours earlier I was writing a blog entry on that very thing.

**Okay, okay, I didn't actually say that, but I needed to wrap up the story with a cute little bow. Please forgive me my "creative nonfiction," just this once. Please also forgive me this long, rambling entry, which was all done just to say "I learn from him and he learns from me, and isn't it just peachy how we can all learn from each other to make this world a better place to live. Peace, man."

Posted by Leah at January 11, 2006 02:30 PM