My Girlfriend, the Comedienne

Last night, I spent a pleasant summer evening on the streets of downtown Hoboken, NJ with my girlfriend. We window-shopped along the cute stores, ate dinner at a excellent Mexican Restaurant, and walked along the waterfront down by the Hudson River. All in all, a very enjoyable night. At two points, my girlfriend made jokes that were well timed and quite funny (IMHO). (IMHO - internet speak for "In My Humble Opinion.")

The first joke was made as we where crossing Washington Street at 5th Street. I was rubbing my hand, for whatever reason, and noticed some very thick callous at the point where my middle finger joins the palm of my right hand. Take a look at your hand right now to see where I am talking. You probably have a little circular callous there as well. Mine, for some reason, seems inordinately large and thick.

My girlfriend, seeing me look at this callous, says, "Yeah, I noticed that really thick callous when I was holding your hand earlier in the day. You must have been alone for a very long time!"

(If you don't get that right away, I'll give you a moment to think about it.)



The second joke of the night occured as we were on the "Great Lawn" down by the Hudson River. There were people sitting on blankets and kids playing. My girlfriend and I took off our sandals as we walked across the lawn to enjoy the feeling of grass on our bare feet; something city dwellers don't experience often. We noticed two little girls to our left doing sommersaults and cartwheels. My girlfriend and I say something about remembering what it is like to be kids. I jokingly say, "Well, let's do some cartwheels."

She says, "Ok."

In my head I say, "Shit, can I even still do a cartwheel!?!" because I can't remember the last time I did one.

With images of me busting my ass, I get her to go first while hoping she doesn't realize her boyfriend is acting chickenshit about doing a cartwheel. My girlfriend has me hold her purse and then performs a cartwheel. Not the most perfect cartwheel, as I am sure her shorts and blouse were not the most conducive to acrobatics, but an acceptable one nonetheless. "Your turn," she says with a smile.

I put down my sandals, put my hands up in the air and take a step, all while trying to hide the nervousness that I feel because I can picture myself landing on my head. I then procede to excute an excellent cartwheel. While not Olympic Gold Medal winning, it was quite impressive for a man who really shouldn't have that level of agility left after working an office job for so long. My legs were straight, my arms strong and my landing solid.

"I'm impressed," my girlfriend said. "That was really good!" Yeah, I'm impressed with myself as well.

I then get impulsive and ask if she remembers doing "roundoffs" where you start the cartwheel and then push off with your arms to turn in the air and land on both feet. I perfom one, quite well and to the surprise of both of us.

We gather our shoes and things and proceed to continue our walk across the Great Lawn. My girlfriend turns and says, "You know how I know your gay. . .," referencing that scene in the movie "40 Year Old Virgin", "you can do a perfect cartwheel."

That's my girlfriend. She'll be here all week, folks, and don't forget to tip your waitress!