Two of my best friends recently got married and, since I’m a
n irritating showboat writer and insufferable bore fairly frequent public speaker, I felt it necessary to speechify at the reception. Here, then, is the result of my best efforts to explain one of the healthiest, happiest relationships I’ve ever seen.
In order to properly describe Tyler and Bittany Maggert’s relationship, I had to resort to an extended metaphor about ahjawoowie. Since I’m going to assume you don’t know what ahjawoowie is, allow me to take a moment and explain.
You first take cooking wine – the exact brand or variety is unimportant – and mix it with precisely half a bottle of Corona. Then you add a measure of grape pucker and however much salt falls from the shaker. Stir well and enjoy. Ahjawoowie goes great with a fresh side of absolutely nothing.
I invented ahjawoowie sometime during the late highschool years. I may have been intoxicated during the invention process, but that’s not what’s important. What is important is to imagine the look of terror on T’s face when I presented him with a glass of my masterpiece.
Lips draw tight. Tension develops in the neck and shoulders. Rapid inhalation of breath, it’s not at all dissimilar to the actions of a prize fighter preparing for a body shot. Which, considering the delicate flavors and intense, saltiness of my brown, sludgy foray into drink mixing produced, probably wasn’t far from literally getting punched.
At the time, his reaction was just funny. “Hahaha, remember that time I got my friends to drink that vile crap?” But what I noticed shortly thereafter was that Tyler made that face in a lot of situations, especially anytime there was a love interest around.I am perhaps going to far with my amatuer psychology, but I think that was Tyler’s way of saying “oh no, here it goes again.” It was his body betraying the expectation of pain, of petty power plays and romance as a competition. It was painful to watch.
This brings me to the first time I met Brittany. I was sitting in Tyler’s front room either playing video games, talking about radios or doing synchronized kung-fu – memory is a little fuzzy. Anyway, I turned around just in time to see Brittany, entering from the kitchen, perform a shimmy shimmy slide move. My first reaction was to think “what a cool chick.” My second reaction was to turn back to Tyler and check for the ahjawoowie face, the pucker up, the “oh shit this is going to suck.”
What I saw instead was a release of tension and that’s when I began to suspect Tyler and Brittany weren’t confusing love and combat. As I continued to watch them talk and offer to take out the garbage and say “I love you” every time someone had to leave I knew they had the beginnings of something special. I witnessed Tyler build up Brittany’s confidence, to push her just that little bit necessary to transform from kareoke fan to professional singer. I watched as Brittany, knowing all of Tyler’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities, instead of using them as leverage, used them as a strategic map for protecting her man from the attacks of everyday life.
This is all my long-winded way of saying that Tyler and Brittany are meant for each other, that they’re special. In fact, I’d say there’s a good chance their marriage will be even better than ahjawoowie.
If you can think of anything amazing for Tyler and Brittany to do at Disneyland, I’m sure they’d appreciate your ideas at the honeymoon website.
Quite an endorsement of a loving union, told in your inimitable style. Said story has me wondering if you make that same face when pondering objects of your own romantic interests? Seems like the kind of face a barista/bartender/chemist might make as a reflex, you know, after years of exposure to the reverberations of such a concoction.
Thanks for the comment, Paula. To answer your question, no. That’s not the face I make. I’ve got a whole other can of worms. 😉