There are few sides of Brad Mosiman that I haven't seen or don't enjoy. I mean, c'mon, look at him. Me-ow. But today? Today was a shocker. I have to admit...I didn't recognize the man I married. Judge for yourself based on this morning's phone conversation:
Amy: I had a perv come on to me yesterday.
Brad: (Obviously distracted by something unimportant...like navigating Boston's busy city streets) Uh-huh.
Amy: (Repeating herself because the love of her life and indignant defender of all women must not have heard her): I said, "I had a perv come on to me yesterday."
Brad: I heard you (mumbles as he misses his turn).
Amy: Aren't you upset?
Brad: (honks heard in background) You were at Joan's, your mom's, and bookclub...(yells something indistinguishable out his window...more honking is heard)
Amy: (huffing)
Brad: (sighing) Alright. Tell me about this lurid incident.
Amy: Well...I was at the assisted living center...
Brad: Oh boy.
Amy: (defensively) What?
Brad: You and Sydney are the exact same.
Amy: You haven't even heard the story yet and you are victim-shaming me?
Brad: Hold on (More yelling. The words "double-park" and "Mass-hole" can be heard). Okay. I'm back. I am NOT victim-shaming you. I am just saying that you tend to be overly-friendly and send out signals...INADVERTENTLY...(He added as Amy began to sputter)...and you don't pick up on cues that you've...inadvertently...invited attention. You and Sydney tend to be perv magnets.
Long silence as Amy was stunned by this gross mischaracterization of her friendly nature and Brad was deftly avoiding a 3-car pile-up.
Brad: (sighing) Tell me what happened.
Amy: (punishing Brad by not talking to him, remains silent)
Brad: (sighing again) Alright, maybe we can talk about this later when I get out of traffic...
Amy: There was that old guy on the 2nd floor in a wheelchair...
Brad: You are going to have to be more specific than that...
Amy: (huffs) Do you want to hear this or not?
Brad: More than anything.
Amy: Anyway...I breezed by, saying hello as usual...
Brad: In your super-energetic happy voice?
Amy: (frowning) No...in my usual voice.
Brad: (nodding) Uh-huh. Go on...
Amy: He was wearing a patriotic fedora.
Brad: A fedora?
Amy: Think "Godfather."
Brad: Okay...a hat from the 50s. You really paint a picture.
Amy: Oh! And, sidebar, they installed the new carpet in that part of the corridor!
Brad: Great!
Amy: I know!
Brad: How is it?
Amy: Well...it's kind of a weird yet subtle animal print but REALLY spongy.
Brad: Does this somehow tie in to how you were victimized?
Amy: Well...kind of. I mentioned the sponginess of the carpet to the guy.
Brad: In the fedora? Oh no...did you bounce when you mentioned the sponginess of the carpet?
Amy: (loathe to admit it) Yes.
Brad: Okay. Go on.
Amy: Well...in the midst of my visit with Mom, I passed him three times. On the last time, he was positioned next to the stairs.
Brad: (nodding) Your exit point.
Amy: EXACTLY! He waved me over and extended his hand. Naturally, I took it.
Brad: Naturally.
Amy: Instead of a handshake, he did that weird, creepy thing that some men do.
Brad: The flip.
Amy: Yes! The flip. And then...(she shudders)
Brad: What?
Amy: He took two fingers and tickled the inside of my palm!
Brad: The monster! (Stops teasing for a second) You're right...that was gross and inappropriate. What did you do?
Amy: I removed my hand firmly and told him to be good before flouncing dramatically down the stairs.
Brad: That showed him!
Amy: See? I am NO WAY to blame for that?
Brad: Remember when I was out on deployment and you would go to dinner and a movie with the manager of the pet store?
Amy: Why do you ALWAYS bring that up?
Brad: Because you didn't realize that you were dating him while being married to me.
Amy: For goodness sake...that was over thirty years ago! I suppose now you're going to bring up the guy that asked me to keep him company outside at a wedding reception until you intervened.
Brad: No...I was going to bring up the bus driver on the Whale Watch trip that asked you for drinks after you'd gotten all the 6th graders put to bed.
Amy: This was NOT my fault!
Brad: What about when you almost accepted acid from a stranger in the porta potty line at a Grateful Dead concert because it looked like a cute sticker?
Amy: That could have happened to ANYONE!
Brad: You were seven months pregnant at the time!
Amy: (repeating) This was NOT my fault!
Brad: Being friendly is not a fault. Not picking up on how that friendliness is being interpreted is a fault.
Amy: Why am I being held responsible for someone else's warped interpretation of my overture of friendliness?
Brad: Because I love you and want you to be safe.
Amy: (stewing) Don't you have to work?
Brad: Trust me...I've been working.
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