Wednesday, May 19, 2004

I have on occasion been told that I think too much. While I don't particularly agree (and couldn't do anything about it if I did), it is true that I like to think through how I do what I do, and is there a better way I could be doing this?

For instance, I figured out many years ago that when you're carrying a full cup of coffee, it's best to walk as arhythmically as possible, otherwise you'll get a little wave going in your cup, and end up with hot coffee all over your hand. Being a geek and all, I thought of this as Fremen-walking, after the tribes in Frank Herbert's Dune that walked so as to avoid making rhythmic noises that would attract the sandworms. It's a little thing, I know, but it gives you some idea what kind of man I am. It's also a private thing, in that I don't think I've ever told anyone else about it. Till now. I mean, why would I?

Christie, on the other hand, after almost three years of coming to my house, still turns on the wrong street from time to time. And when we go out for coffee, she always puts so much coffee in the cup, that she practically has to overflow the cup to get enough cream. Every. Single. Time.

It makes us a good match, I suppose, that I put all the thought into a trip across town that some people would put into a cross-country move, but tend to leave the big stuff (like an actual cross-country move) largely in the hands of fate, while she lets the little things take care of themselves, but burns stomach acid late into the night over big maneuvers.

Anyway, the other day we're having breakfast at our usual coffee and danish spot, and she catches me smiling at her as she's walking (slowly, carefully) back to our table with her too-full cup. "What?" she asks.

"Nothing." My smile broadens. "Cup too full?"

"It's no big deal. You just have to walk like a fremen."

How does she do that?

No comments: