I never got to see my beloved Bob in college since we met a few years after the caps and gowns and kegs and eggs era. I missed out on getting to know him in his frat boy days of Sig Ep theme parties, bromances, and "brutal" beer guzzling hazing, which he still talks about as if it were yesterday.
But I believe I got a sneak peak of what Frat Bob was like when I left him alone in our apartment for that one night. And in just that one night on his own, Bob left a trail of clues upon my return that would tell the tale of Frat Bob's relapse to a time and place when "wife beaters" were acceptable to wear on any occasion, and cereal with milk was considered dinner.
Clue #1
Upon opening the refrigerator, alongside my Lactaid milk and dairy-free cheese, sat a 24 pack of Miller beer (of which 23 were left), staring back at me. "What are you doing here?" I asked the beer. They just looked back at me blankly and with as much confusion as to why they were in my apartment as I had. I like beer, but we don't drink it at home unless it were for one of 3 specific reasons. But, we didn't have a party, Bob didn't have a guy friend over and it wasn't football season. I was at a loss. When Frat Bob was questioned regarding said beer by his pondering wife, he answered, "I felt like having a beer," to which I knew meant, "it was on sale," but played along. Clearly, a man wants to feel like a man especially when his woman is away, but only Frat Bob would follow-through on this macho move with a Miller Lite coupon and a dream.
Clue #2
As I approached my living room, I realized that the lower half of our flat screen TV was being blocked by a massive speaker system that was not there the day that I had left. Now, a day later, we had a sound system that was meant more for a movie theater than a small sitting area in a small apartment. It wasn't just large, it was black and looked more like a space heater than a speaker. It was at least 4-feet long and there was no other place to put this massive eyesore other than right in front of the TV. As I scrunched my nose up in horror and disgust, Frat Bob jumped in front of it and turned it on. As it blared so loudly I could feel the bass vibrate the floor, Frat Bob yelled, but all I heard/saw were the words being mouthed under the offensive noise, "isn't it great! The sound is so much better now!" Somehow in just 24-hours, my Buddha statue filled, modern and clean living room had become the ultimate bachelor pad, fully equipped with a shiny over-sized black sound system that we didn't need, won't keep and Frat Bob will learn to live without.
Clue #3
He watched Entourage on-demand. Think it was his first time.
Clue #4
He ate everything out of the freezer that wasn't stuck with ice to the bottom and that wasn't a medical ice pack.
Clue #5
He built two shoe racks, changed out our shower head, tightened every loose screw on anything he could find in our place that had screws, etc. just to use his tool box which he carried around unnecessarily in the apartment by a handle. Frat Bob is also Bob the Builder.
While I understand that these things are not that odd for a 31-year old married man whose wife is out of town, this is odd behavior for my husband, who spends most of his time when I am home organizing his 20% off Bed, Bath and Beyond coupons, and reading consumer reviews for the best vacuum cleaner.
As I sat on my couch last night with him, drinking Miller Lite while watching "Bachelor Pad" with our new super-sized sound system, my shock and surprise about Frat Bob gently turned to pride as it was quite endearing that he played his gender role so fervently in my absence. Kinda cute actually.
And as I looked at him to invite Frat Bob to come around more often, I realized he was tearing up as Aimes chased Jackie down in the limo so that she wouldn't leave, thus choosing true love over the prize money. And just like that, Frat Bob had left the bachelor pad.
No comments:
Post a Comment