Truth About Peeps
standing in the aisle of the Sav-on when I see them. "Oh, look!
There are the Peeps I've been looking for." The bright, yellow
packaging stands out among all the other candies as I race down
the aisle towards them. Grabbing a box, I nestle it gently in between
a ten-pack of toilet paper and the sundries already loaded into
my basket. "These are the original ones too," I continue.
"You almost never see them anymore."
boyfriend walks up behind me, "Those aren't the original Peeps."
they're not--the bunnies are the originals."
the chicks are the originals."
would they call bunnies 'Peeps'? I mean, originally, wouldn't they
have called them something like, 'Pffts Pffts' instead?" I
retort, making the universal bunny motion -- fingers cutely curled
under, hopping a bit in front of chest.
boyfriend rolls his eyes at me, which usually means I've said something
stupid. Conversely, it's His way of getting out of something He
knows He's wrong about without having to concede His wrongness.
turns the corner and starts down the next aisle. I pause for a second
and then, with a surprisingly sudden anger, turn and walk quickly
past the rows of sweets and hustle up behind him. He stands in front
of the Budweiser display. They're on sale, and his face has that
particular glaze to it that only happens when something he really
loves is within sight.
hate when you roll your eyes at me."
to the docile yellow marshmallows resting innocently in their box
inside the cart. "Those are the original Peeps."
rolls his eyes. AGAIN.
Christ! Think about it. Look at how old-skool they look."
feel stupid for using the term "old-skool," but it's true.
"See? The chicks have a totally vintage feel that the bunnies
here I hold up a box of the offending non-vintage bunnies for emphasis
just don't. And look at the colors! The yellow of the
chicks compared to the blue, pink and purple bunnies -- I mean,
how much more modern a color can you get than purple?"
squints his eyes at me with a look that says this is the stupidest
conversation I've ever had. Then he says, "This is the stupidest
conversation I've ever had. Are you really intent on ruining a perfectly
nice day? You did wake up kind of crabby, you know."
DID NOT WAKE UP CRABBY!" I yell. Then I bring my voice down
a notch. "You always do this--you're wrong about something,
or you don't know something but you can't just admit it, even if
it's totally meaningless!"
Peeps! THE FUCKING PEEPS!" I'm gesticulating wildly now, using
the Peeps for emphasis. "You're wrong about the bunnies--"
(pushing the bunnies into his face) "--being the first Peeps
when it's obvious that the chicks--" (grabbing the chicks out
of the hand cart before he can crush them with the case of Budweiser)
"--are the first Peeps!"
you're not in a bad mood?"
I'm in a great fucking mood, I mean, I was until you started acting
we not do this here?"
that some of our fellow shoppers are starting to take notice, but
I've always hated being shushed just because someone might hear,
so I start hissing instead. "You're just saying I woke up
in a bad mood because you don't want to admit that you know NOTHING
looks at me, for all the world, like he's sorry I'm so confused
about my life. "I think we have everything we need," he
says, and walks up to the checkout counter. I have no recourse but
to join him.
stand at the counter. And wait. We wait on what must be the SLOWEST
MOVING LINE IN THE HISTORY OF SLOW-MOVING LINES AT SAV-ON, which
is to say it's really fucking slow. In the silence, my mind reels
with all the times we've disagreed about things: There was the brown
recluse spider argument (they do not, in fact, kill people) and
the idea that fencing is an acceptable major in college. After boiling
spaghetti you DO NOT run hot water over it to get rid of the starch.
And pizza bagels are just not considered gourmet. By anyone.
all gets me thinking: Maybe these arguments have a deeper meaning.
Maybe we've got nothing in common. Maybe I'm just fooling myself
that we're totally in love. And then I hear my mother's voice: You've
never learned to compromise. EVER. In anything. Relationships are
a give. And a take. (She says it just like that, too -- "A
give. And a take.") You're looking for perfection, and you're
never going to find it. And I wonder, for the first time in
my life, if she actually knows what she's talking about.
over and notice that my boyfriend is standing in line. Totally content.
Just standing there. He's not thinking about anything -- he's not
even reading a magazine. He clearly DOES NOT love me, or he'd be
feeling as distraught as I am right now. COMPROMISE MY ASS! Couldn't
he at least seem upset? He should be worrying that I hate him, that
this is the end, the last straw, the coup de grace, as it
were. He could be losing me forever, RIGHT NOW, THIS VERY INSTANT.
The fact that he CLEARLY doesn't care AT ALL throws me into AN EVEN
GREATER RAGE than before. Also, I feel sad.
Checkout Boy completes his first transaction. We inch forward in
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