Thursday, July 22, 2010

Costco pronounces you husband and wife.

Like a well-cooked meal, a good night of uninterrupted sleep or finding $20 in your purse that you didn't know you had, the concept of marriage is such a beautiful thing.

Ah, marriage.

On the upside, it's nice to know you're not doing this crazy, flailing dance on this nutty disco ball of a planet without a partner. It's good to have two extra hands nearby when a project takes more than the pair on the end of your arms. It's comforting to know that there will be someone around to pick up the slack if you're befallen by something unanticipated, like the West Nile virus, back surgery or dementia.

Sounds idyllic, doesn't it?

Sometimes things don't have such a fairy-tale ending, which was the case with my marriage. Which, like those of half the population, ended in divorce.

But there's a bright, redemptive light at the end of my personal relationship tunnel. Even though some pontificators claim that women my age are more likely to be struck by lightning or be killed by a terrorist or get their own Christmas special on NBC than to find their groove-thang, I was lucky enough to find Mr. Fabulous.

Mr. Fabulous is also divorced. And despite the acrimony of his last relationship, he's actually expressed an interest in getting married again. He's also mentioned he'd like to tie the knot some day with me.

That's so very endearing, isn't it?

There's only one setback.


I was married once already. I expected it to last forever. And it didn't.

But somehow, stars aligned. Receptivity occurred. And now there's Mr. Fabulous.

Mr. Fabulous and I live together, we're committed to each other, and after a few years together, we still have so much fun. I can't decide who is whose better half.

Why f it up by getting married?

Not unlike watching that Titanic movie twice or living through the G.W. Bush administrations, there are some things that don't bear repeating.

Kind of like a second marriage, at least in my opinion.

So it made me literally laugh out loud the other day when Mr. Fabulous and I were at Costco. My membership needed to be renewed, and considering Mr. Fab is now a fixture in my house and has actually changed his address to mine, we decided to make the Costco commitment and go in on a membership together.

We were waiting for our membership cards to be created, flush with the scent of togetherness and affiliation, coupled with the prospect of getting crap-loads of merch at deep discounts.

It was then that Mr. Fabulous turned to me and said, "Costco thinks we're married!"

If that's as far as it goes, it's fine with me.

I love Mr. Fabulous. That's indisputable. But if we can fly under the marriage radar and still get the perks, so much the better.

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