The Couple Who Aren't A Couple
The Couple Who Aren't A Couple
Author’s note: My apologies to the people of Iceland for bastardizing their beautiful language for the sake of attempted humor. I’m sure you have a poetic term that aptly describes morons like me.
Before Friday
Daniel and Janet live in the same city.
They live in the same building, as a matter of fact.
The same floor, even.
Across the hall from each other, to be more precise.
Daniel and Janet live in the same building, on the same floor, diagonally across from each other, to be exact, and yet they don’t even know each other’s names.
Daniel typically leaves for work at 8:36 a.m. to get to his office by 8:58 a.m.
Dan walks to work.
Janet exits her apartment at 8:15 a.m. to get to work by nine-ish, stopping at Tragel’s Bagels for coffee and a bagel, or sometimes an egg croissant.
Jan takes the subway to work.
Daniel and Janet do not commute together or work for the same employer, but they dress similarly—smart casual.
Daniel and Janet see each other only occasionally in the hallway or at the mailbox alcove, usually on the weekends or in the evenings, returning from an errand or an exercise outing.
Polite greetings are exchanged at these times (if they make eye contact) and are kept brief, the bare minimum social norms require.
Janet isn’t looking for a serious relationship at this point in her life but thinks Daniel is within the correct age range and above the acceptable height (between two years younger and five years older than her own age and over five feet ten), has a symmetrical face and straight teeth, and wears adult clothing.
Daniel thinks Janet is cute and has perfectly sized breasts.
Friday
Janet is having a disastrous morning, which is impacting her normal workday schedule.
The building’s power went out briefly during the night, and the backup 9-volt battery in her digital alarm clock had died sometime within the previous year, resulting in the clock’s tardy notification.
Also, her cat decides to perform an unscheduled disappearing act, which causes Janet to implement a room-by-room search to make sure the darn thing is still in the apartment.
Janet’s cat’s name is Shuddup.
After several tense minutes, Shuddup is found unharmed in Janet’s secondary bathroom tub, staring at a small spider.
Daniel, on the other hand, is enjoying an impeccably timed schedule.
His internal clock woke him at the optimum time.
His steel-cut oatmeal came out perfectly.
Daniel has a built-in fifteen-minute buffer in his schedule for any unforeseen circumstances, which he now uses to play City Planner VII on his tablet.
Dan does not own a cat or any other pet on that score.
Daniel’s smartwatch vibrates on his wrist, and he leaves for work at the pre-assigned time.
Janet leaves her apartment at 8:37.
Flustered would be a good description to apply to her frazzled state.
Frazzled is another good one.
Jan wears her Plant a Tree—Give a Sloth a Home tee shirt.
The words are in a circle with a cute sloth in a handsome tree in the center. (Fridays are super casual at the office.)
Daniel is waiting for the elevator when he hears Janet shouting.
This is what she shouts: “Hold the door, please!”
The elevator doors open, and Daniel enters the elevator with the neighborly intention of holding the doors open, utilizing the Door Open button.
It is difficult at first for Daniel to discern the Door Open button from the Door Close button because their pictograms are a bit confusing and the elevator doors begin to slide shut.
Daniel eventually finds the appropriate button and repeatedly jabs at it with his forefinger knuckle, and the doors open again.
Janet enters the elevator and thanks Daniel.
She tosses some hair away from her face with a flick of her head and smiles at the tall guy she’s seen in the mail alcove on occasion.
Daniel tells Janet she is welcome and apologizes for not hitting the button quickly enough.
Janet nods.
The elevator doors close, with Dan and Jan being the only occupants.
Daniel stands facing the doors; Janet stands to the side facing Daniel.
Daniel notices that the cute woman he’s seen in the mail alcove a few times seems flustered, or maybe frazzled.
Janet observes that Daniel is impeccably dressed (for a Friday), and his forearms are exceptional in his light teal short-sleeved shirt.
This is the point where Janet’s crush on Daniel germinates.
The two neighbors engage in their first true conversation.
It transpires thusly:
“Good morning, by the way.”
“Oh, good morning.”
“I wish the eight o’clock hour had 120 minutes in it.”
Daniel laughs at Janet’s quip, and this is when his crush on Janet begins to blossom.
[Pause]
Daniel thinks Janet has a soothing voice and looks nice, even though she is frayed, or frazzled, or quite possibly flustered.
Janet thinks Daniel is taller than she had originally thought.
Daniel observes Janet’s breasts are smaller than he initially surmised, but it might be because of the tee shirt.
“Off to work?”
“Yep”
[Pause]
“You?”
“Work? Yeah.”
[Pause]
“How tall are you?”
“Uh… six one.”
Janet nods.
Daniel wonders what Janet’s cup size is but decides (wisely) not to ask.
“I’m Daniel, by the way.”
“Oh, hi Daniel, I’m Janet. 710.”
“Right. 711.”
Daniel points to himself.
[Pause]
“My apartment number, not the convenience store.”
Daniel points up with his index finger.
Janet nods again and smiles.
The elevator doors open.
“Have a great day.”
“Oh, you too.”
Daniel and Janet both think the morning has started in a different, but delightful way.
The couple who aren’t a couple walk out of their apartment building and head off in separate directions.
Saturday
Daniel and Janet have no contact.
Sunday Afternoon
Daniel returns from a bicycle ride and notices Janet (he now thinks of her as Janet instead of the cute girl with the nice breasts) entering their apartment building.
Janet is aware there is a bicycle rider in the vicinity near the entrance but doesn’t identify him as Daniel.
Daniel thinks he would like to see Janet again and talk to her some more but worries he may have an unappealing body odor.
Daniel does not know Janet secretly likes the smell of a man’s sweat, as long as the man is good-looking, over five feet ten, and has a symmetrical face.
And is single.
Janet does not go to the mail alcove, since it is a Sunday, so she heads straight to the elevator.
Daniel decides to chance it and enters the building after removing his bicycle helmet.
Janet, now in the elevator, recognizes the cyclist as Daniel, her neighbor from across the hall (she now refers to him as Daniel instead of the nice-looking tall guy), and holds the elevator doors open by continuously pressing the Open Door button with her thumb.
Their second elevator conversation proceeds like this:
“Hey, thanks… um…”
Fun fact: Daniel forgets names easily, especially when under stress.
“Janet.”
“Janet. Thanks, Janet.”
“No problem, Daniel.”
Janet feels a tinge of superiority for remembering his name, but at the same time, feels slightly deflated because Daniel didn’t remember her name.
There is no term for this particular duality of emotion in the English language.
In Iceland, they call it baráttutilfinningar.
Or kona hugarstríð.
Neither Janet nor Daniel know Icelandic, but it’s not their fault.
Daniel and Janet were both born in the United States, two years, seven months, and twelve days apart.
“What floor?”
Daniel smiles at the obvious joke as he maneuvers his bike into the cramped elevator space.
Janet smiles back as she presses the button for the seventh floor.
“Nice bike.”
“Oh, thanks. Do you ride?”
“No, I have balance issues.”
“I could teach you.”
Janet imagines the nice-looking tall guy, she means Daniel (she mentally corrects herself), with one hand on her wrist and the opposing arm loosely draped around her back, keeping her balanced on a bicycle as he walks beside her murmuring encouraging words.
“I don’t own a bicycle.”
“Oh, I have a second one you can use.”
The elevator doors open on the third floor, and an unshaven man with greasy hair carrying a large paper bag with indeterminable contents tries to enter.
Daniel and Janet say to him, in unison, in monotone voices, “Going up.”
The man backs away, and the elevator doors close, and the couple who are still not a couple start their ascent again.
Daniel and Janet look at each other.
Daniel raises his eyebrows and points to his bike.
“Oh. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
Daniel nods.
Daniel mentally curses himself for coming on too strong.
Janet internally chides herself for not being assertive.
This is what she’s thinking: Just say yes, for Chrissake!
The elevator doors open, and they both exit into the hallway leading to their respective apartments.
“Do you need help with that?”
“Oh, no thanks, I got it.”
Janet makes a contorted face, which Daniel doesn’t see.
Janet is incredibly embarrassed at the incredibly stupid offer to “help” as Daniel lazily rolls his bike down the carpeted hallway in his incredibly form-fitting nylon cargo shorts.
After unlocking her door, Janet says, “See you around.”
Daniel says, “Oh, okay, you too,” and they both enter their respective apartments and close their respective doors.
Once inside, Daniel admonishes himself for his stupid reply.
This is what he quietly yells at himself: “You too?? Really? You too?”
Daniel then internally rebukes himself by thinking: And stop looking at her breasts. She’s going to catch you one day.
Monday – Thursday
Nothing to report.
Friday
Daniel and Janet pass each other going in opposite directions in the lobby of their apartment building.
Janet says, “Hey.”
Daniel says, “Hey.”
They both walk away from each other, not knowing how to strike up a conversation with such short notice, then Daniel turns and points to Janet and announces confidently, “Janet.”
Janet turns and gives him a thumbs-up sign and exits the building.
Janet later smiles as oxytocin irrigates her brain, but Daniel doesn’t see her face.
Saturday — Thursday
Nothing new to report, except on Sunday morning Daniel makes sure there is the proper amount of air in his secondary bike’s tires.
Just in case.
Friday
Janet decides to leave for work a little late, thinking she might catch Daniel “accidentally” and ride down with him.
Jan is wearing a tighter tee shirt than the one she wore a couple of weeks ago when she caught Daniel looking at her breasts.
(Although, to be fair, he might have simply been reading her tee shirt.)
Today’s shirt has no words or pictures; it’s just dark red with thin, lighter red, horizontal pinstripes.
The stripes are in a slightly different shade of red, more pinkish.
Janet is well aware these stripes accentuate the curvature of her breasts.
The shirt is pretty tight, actually.
Janet sees the elevator doors close with Daniel inside.
Dan does not see Janet.
Jan doesn’t see Daniel’s face, but she recognizes the satchel he carries on work days.
Janet goes back inside her apartment and changes her shirt.
The Weekend
No contact between Daniel and Janet, but on Sunday morning Janet googles How to Ride a Bike and Can a Woman Ride a Man’s Bike.
Monday
Janet does her grocery shopping on Mondays because there are always too many people in Whole Foods on Sundays.
Daniel goes to the grocery store because he needs a few things, and Whole Foods is a six-and-a-half-minute walk from his apartment building.
Daniel doesn’t go grocery shopping until he needs at least seven items.
Daniel and Janet meet in the cereal aisle.
Daniel doesn’t normally buy cereal, but he saw Janet in that particular aisle, and now he is damn sure he’s going to buy some cereal.
Daniel decides to let Janet “notice” him first, even though he has already spotted her.
Jan notices Dan in the cereal aisle.
Daniel is pretending to read the Recommended Daily Allowance label on a box of Peanut Butter Panda Puffs.
Janet touches Daniel’s bare forearm and says, “Hey, Daniel.”
Daniel smiles at Janet as dopamine floods his brain.
Her eyes are wide and clear, and her smile is bright; she wears no makeup, but Daniel thinks she looks beautiful.
Daniel’s crush level elevates in intensity, and his heart rate spikes.
“Oh, hi Janet. How’s it going?”
“Great minds think alike.”
Janet nods toward the box of Peanut Butter Panda Puffs in Daniel’s hand and lifts her basket containing another box of Peanut Butter Panda Puffs.
Daniel had previously tasted Peanut Butter Panda Puffs while visiting his sister, and his niece was eating the bland cereal.
Daniel thought, at the time, Peanut Butter Panda Puffs should be called Peanut Butter Styrofoam Puffs, but that name wouldn’t have made it past the marketing department.
Daniel laughs at Janet’s witticism and puts the cereal box in his basket.
“So, what have you been up to?”
Janet is unaware as she is speaking that she is standing in the middle of the aisle, and an elderly gentleman using a cane is unable to negotiate a passage.
Dan places his hand on Jan’s upper arm and gently (oh, so gently) guides her to his side of the cereal aisle, providing the elderly gentleman a gateway to the Cinnamon Kashi.
Janet’s crush level elevates in intensity, and her pupils dilate.
“Oh, sorry,” Janet mumbles to no one in particular.
“I’ve been good. Just got promoted.”
Daniel says this quickly to alleviate any embarrassment Janet may have incurred by blocking the aisle.
Daniel mentioning his promotion brings forth in him an unusual mixture of unabashed pride and dispiriting embarrassment for coming off as a pompous jerk.
There’s no word in the English language for this type of double-edged emotional stalemate.
In Iceland, they call it känslomässigt dödläge.
Or pinsamt pridekrig.
The elderly gentleman eyeing the Kashi knows some conversational Icelandic but is unaware of these terms because they are relatively new psychological phrases, and he hasn’t been in Iceland for forty-three years.
“Wow, congratulations!”
Janet’s pale green eyes are even wider and sparklier, and Daniel now thinks he likes looking into her eyes more than looking at her breasts.
Mmm, maybe.
“What do you do?”
At this point, the conversation continues with general pleasantries and personal informational exchanges, which are, quite frankly, boring.
However, what Daniel doesn’t tell Janet in the cereal aisle at their neighborhood Whole Foods is that his promotion requires an out-of-state relocation to a city more than a nine-hour drive away.
Fun fact: Janet doesn’t own a car.
Tuesday
Janet decides to buy pre-packaged bagels and the oatmeal she saw in Daniel’s Whole Foods basket so she can eat breakfast at home, saving enough time each morning to allow her to leave for work at the same time as Daniel.
Daniel is thrilled with Janet’s new routine and savors every weekday morning when he can spend an extra six minutes with the woman who has the ability to massage his heart without touching him.
Wednesday
Construing Janet’s switch to an 8:36 start time as a bold romantic gesture and a sign of forward progression in their budding relationship, Daniel decides to follow suit and ask her out for dinner on Friday night.
A date.
Daniel has never been especially good at asking women out for dinner on Friday nights, but he does remember going on dates, which have included Friday night dinners, so he must have been successful at some point.
Daniel chickens out in the elevator and does not accomplish the one goal he set for himself.
There is no poultry-related term for this type of cowardice in Iceland.
Thursday
Daniel chickens out in the elevator again.
Janet questions her wardrobe choices and wonders why Daniel hasn’t asked her out.
Friday Morning
Daniel and Janet meet in the hallway at the elevator, and Daniel presses the Down button even though he clearly saw Janet press it seconds ago.
This quasi-rude gesture can be attributed to his preoccupation with the task of asking a pretty woman out for dinner.
This is what he mentally commands himself: Today is the day.
Janet is wearing her (not too tight, but tight enough) Have a Heart?—Give Blood tee shirt with a red EKG graphic appropriately placed over her perfectly sized breasts.
Daniel is wearing an artichoke-green Polo shirt that perfectly fits his perfect cyclist’s body.
“Morning.”
“Good morning.”
Things are off to a good start.
As the elevator door closes on the couple who may become a couple, Daniel clears his throat.
He then pauses, momentarily forgetting how to speak English.
“Hey, would you like to grab a bite tonight after work?”
Janet says this with exuberant confidence and an ease which Daniel clearly lacks.
Daniel forgets to close his mouth.
“I mean, if you’re not doing anything.”
The elevator doors open to reveal the seventh floor again because Daniel had forgotten to press the Lobby button, and Gerald from apartment 701 steps in, presses the Lobby button, and stands between Daniel and Janet.
Daniel and Janet hold their respective breaths.
The three denizens of the seventh floor ride down in relative silence, except for the seepage of Taylor Swift from Gerald’s earbuds.
At the lobby, the elevator doors open, and Gerald and Taylor Swift exit.
The doors close again on the remaining two occupants.
“Yeah, sure,” Daniel says, as if no time has passed since Janet’s invitation. “I mean, if you’re… you know… yeah, I mean, sure, I’d love to. Tonight? Okay, yeah, that’ll work. Sure.”
Exceptionally smooth, like a fine whiskey, don’t you think?
Friday Evening
Daniel arrives home to find an orange sticky note attached to his apartment door.
The note reads thusly: Pick me up at 6:15??
There will be no “picking up” because Janet lives right over there, and they will be walking to the restaurant, but Daniel interprets the note correctly.
It is femininely written in blue marker with a hand-drawn smiley face in the bottom corner.
The smiley face’s smile is wiggly.
Daniel smiles at the wiggly grin and goes inside to shower, shave, and dress for his night out with Janet.
Janet, who has been home since 4:37, peeks out her door to see the orange sticky note with the blue writing is now gone.
By 6:03, both parties are spiffy clean, dressed, and ready for their date.
Janet sits in her apartment reading To Kill a Mockingbird (again) and waits for Daniel’s knock.
Daniel stands just inside his door, staring at his smartwatch for 6:15 to arrive.
It’s go time.
Daniel knocks on Janet’s door.
Janet opens her apartment door and smiles at Daniel.
Seeing Daniel in the hall causes her to forget her apartment door is wide open, and her cat, Shuddup, scurries out in search of the elusive thing cats search for.
This is what Shuddup thinks to himself: The outside world is mine! Wait…
Daniel points at the feline escapee and says, “Um… Is that yours?”
“Shuddup!” Janet shouts and scurries down the hall after the cat.
To his ears, Daniel hears Janet shouting, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! ”
Dan, confused, wonders what he had said that would induce such a reaction.
Janet’s door closes on its own accord, and Daniel is left standing between his apartment and her apartment, watching Janet scurry around the seventh floor, trying to catch a much faster and much nimbler cat.
Eventually, Janet secures Shuddup in a straitjacket hug but soon discovers she has locked herself and the troublesome cat outside her apartment with her keys and phone inside.
Jan and Dan and Shuddup retreat to Daniel’s apartment to call the apartment house office, but find it is closed until Saturday morning.
Shuddup immediately ghosts its owner and the abnormally tall human she appears to perspire over.
Janet apologizes for her stupidity and all the trouble and requests the use of Daniel’s phone to call a locksmith.
Daniel poo-poos this idea (wisely not saying the term poo-poo out loud) and suggests Janet stay in his apartment for the night.
Janet secretly likes this plan but outwardly displays a fake frown and says she can’t impose on Daniel in such a way.
The two decide to discuss it over dinner.
After the pre-date drama, the couple who are trying hard to be a couple stroll the seventeen-minute walk to the restaurant.
On the way to the restaurant, during dinner, and on the way back home, there are new conversations on important subjects: family, the benefits of owning a motor vehicle, pets, the benefits of not having pets, bicycles, non-traditional gender roles in today’s society, orca whales, gummy bears and their importance in the geopolitical landscape, potato chip flavors that are getting out of hand, lemurs—cute or not, and smelly Gerald in 701.
Daniel introduces most of these topics in a semi-conscious ploy to avoid telling Janet he will be moving to another part of the country in three months, which she deserves to be made aware of sooner rather than later.
Icelanders refer to this stalling tactic as slá í kringum sig.
Or bíður betri stundar.
Two topics to go.
Daniel and Janet discuss the issue at hand—whether Janet stays with Daniel for the night or calls a locksmith.
The two finally agree Janet will stay with Daniel, but Janet insists she will sleep on the couch.
Daniel cautions his couch is not especially comfortable, and they can both share the bed—no funny business expected.
(Unfortunately, Daniel says the phrase funny business out loud.)
Daniel chickens out and does not mention the situation concerning his upcoming move.
Friday Night
The couple who appear to be a couple returns from their dinner date to find Shuddup has completely destroyed the toilet paper roll in Daniel’s bathroom.
Janet promises a replacement roll will be forthcoming.
Daniel tells her not to worry about it and asks what Shuddup can use for kitty litter, should it be needed.
Another sidetracked conversation ensues, and it is agreed to line a shallow box with the unrolled, shredded toilet tissue and—this part is Daniel’s idea—sprinkle the entire box of Peanut Butter Panda Puffs over it.
“This is how you get ants,” Janet says.
“We’ll risk it for one night,” Daniel replies.
After a nightcap of white wine, the two decide to get romantic on the uncomfortable couch.
Dan dims the lights, and Jan removes her shoes.
Shuddup saunters into the living room, sees Daniel, and immediately turns around and darts out.
Their first kiss is soft and slow, like the Diana Krall song canoodling them from the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen.
Janet thinks to herself that being locked out of her apartment was a lucky break.
Daniel wonders if Janet had planned to lock herself out of her apartment.
The second kiss is longer and slower but not as soft.
Roaming hands are introduced and reciprocated.
The third kiss is the one that does it.
The couple who previously weren’t a couple are now a couple.
“More wine?” Daniel asks, always the good host.
“No, more you.”
Okay, with that shamefully regrettable response, it’s now time to let these two amateurs at relationship cultivation enjoy a little privacy for a while.
Sometime later, Daniel gives Janet an old but clean sweatshirt for her to sleep in, in lieu of women’s pajamas (size petite), and a toothbrush.
Daniel and Janet take turns using the bathroom.
(They aren’t that close yet.)
Janet arrives on her side of Daniel’s queen-sized bed dressed in the oversized, soft sweatshirt with a university’s name and logo on the front.
Daniel arrives on his side of the bed dressed in dark blue sweatpants and a brand-new gray tee shirt.
They get into bed, and Daniel extinguishes the light.
“Good night, Janet.”
“Good night, Daniel. Thanks for dinner.”
“Mm-hmm.”
A kiss goodnight is executed successfully, since there is just enough stray moonlight to see by, thus avoiding a head-on collision.
Janet lies on the left side of the bed, Daniel on the right, forming an appropriate amount of space between them.
Well, appropriate for siblings or a married couple, so needless to say, the empty space was eliminated in a matter of seconds.
There’s a word for this heated, physical merging of bodies in every language.
Several words, actually.
This type of behavior is the pinnacle of the new couple’s blooming romance.
Afterward, when Janet is asleep, Shuddup decides to make an appearance and jumps on top of the blanketed Daniel and begins an inopportune kneading routine, perhaps in retaliation for the unspeakable behavior that recently transpired without the cat’s consent.
“Shuddup, could you please stop doing that?” Daniel whisper-shouts, with all the authority of a crossing guard in a hostage negotiation.
Daniel isn’t able to relax enough to achieve sleep for a while, most likely due to the naked woman in his bed, not the pesky cat.
Saturday Morning
It’s the next morning, and Daniel is still sleeping.
Janet wakes up and is happy to realize Daniel doesn’t snore while he’s sleeping.
Janet gets out of bed, performs some basic bathroom activities, and calls the office to arrange for the superintendent to let her into her apartment.
After the super unlocks her apartment door, she re-incarcerates Shuddup back into her apartment, then showers, puts on clean clothes, returns to Daniel’s apartment by way of his key—which she has appropriated (it’s a couples’ thing)—disposes of the makeshift litter box and tidies the area, and makes a mental note to replace Daniel’s toilet paper roll, toothbrush, and Peanut Butter Panda Puffs cereal.
Janet starts breakfast in Daniel’s kitchen.
Today’s menu: eggs (poached), English muffins (lightly toasted), turkey bacon (microwaved), avocado (peeled and sliced), cherry tomatoes (halved and roasted), and coffee (brewed).
Janet makes two supply runs back to her apartment for the avocado and tomatoes, and some garlic powder and olive oil.
Janet makes another mental note to teach Daniel some basic cooking techniques, of which, as she can see by his pitifully understocked kitchen, he is sorely in need.
Daniel awakens to the smell of bacon and the sound of a feminine voice singing along to Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra percolating out of the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen.
Daniel had discovered during the night that Janet snores a little while she sleeps.
Fun fact: Janet doesn’t know she snores a little while she sleeps.
Daniel smiles at the memory of last night and the unspeakable behavior (according to Shuddup) he and Janet got into, for which every language has at least a few words.
Daniel also smiles at the knowledge his previous expectations of Janet’s breasts were not just spot-on but were exceeded in aesthetic quality and sensuous malleability.
Janet calls out to Daniel, notifying him that breakfast is nearly ready.
Daniel performs some basic bathroom activities and joins Janet in the kitchen.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. Coffee?”
Before answering, Daniel takes Janet in his arms, and the couple who seem to be a couple indulge in a first-morning-together kiss.
Janet discovers Daniel smells good in the morning, and he shaves on Saturdays.
Daniel discovers Janet eschews bras, at least on Saturday mornings.
The kiss is longer than necessary, but nobody is calling the police.
The kiss also stirs up memories from last night and may delay breakfast for a while, but Daniel promised himself during the night that he would tell Janet his work predicament this morning.
It is 10:42 a.m.
Daniel decides to wait until after breakfast.
Saturday Afternoon
It’s after breakfast.
Dan sits Jan down on the uncomfortable couch and says he needs to tell her something he “just found out.”
Daniel explains the situation he was dreading to bring up.
To say Janet “took it well” would be like saying the reporter covering the Hindenburg disaster “took it well.”
Over the course of the next hour, Janet shuffles through a well-maintained inventory of emotions, hoping to find the perfect fit for this particular situation.
Here’s a partial list:
— 01. Disbelief: This can’t be; he’s joking.
— 02. Sadness: He’ll be too far away; this won’t work out.
— 03. Anger: Why didn’t he tell me this earlier?
— 04. Shock: Sweat/heart palpitations, but it may be from the coffee.
— 05. Deviousness: Maybe she can screw Daniel into staying.
— 06. Shame: For thinking the previous thought.
— 07. Confusion: Did I do/say something wrong/inappropriate?
— 08. Depression/Anxiety: To be fair, these are mild pre-existing conditions.
— 09. Self-Pity: Why can’t I ever keep a good guy?
— 10. Stoic Acceptance: Or rather, a weak attempt at it.
Daniel suggests they go for a walk and discuss the ramifications of his “moving to Siberia” (Janet’s phrase).
Janet declines and wishes to be alone to “process” the new information.
Daniel says he understands and invites Janet into a warm, sympathetic hug, which Janet allows.
Tears make an appearance.
Saturday Evening
Daniel knocks on Janet’s door with a bouquet of orange roses and white carnations he purchased at the florist earlier, an eight-minute bike ride.
He also proffers dinner and a movie for this evening’s activities.
This is a classic move, and one should applaud Daniel for his choices here.
Janet accepts the flowers and invites Daniel in while she searches for a vase.
This is the first time Daniel sees the internal living space of Janet’s apartment, and he is truly impressed.
The quality of Janet’s furnishings and interior design should come as no surprise to Daniel, knowing what she does for a living.
Daniel looks upon an assortment of framed photos displaying Janet with her parents, siblings, and friends.
Through these photographs, Daniel begins to see Janet as much more than a physical plaything but someone with deep, emotional attachments, someone fun yet caring, a person he would be proud to be with.
Daniel feels a mixture of profound luck to have met an intelligent, funny individual (who just happens to have nice breasts) and deep sorrow over the fact he may lose her.
There is no word in the English language for this strange mixture of luck and sorrow.
It is sometimes called heppinn sorglegur hálfviti in Icelandic.
Or lánsamur sorg.
Janet is taking longer than one would expect for her to find a vase, so Daniel sits on her couch (which is extremely comfortable) and plays a little City Planner VIII on his phone.
Meanwhile, Janet tries on several outfits appropriate for a second date.
Janet runs through the scenario of her moving out of state with a man she basically just met.
Janet has family and friends here, an awesome apartment, and a job she loves, having spent years ascending the ranks.
In the back of Daniel’s mind, he revisits the idea of unaccepting his promotion and staying here with a woman who, although he’s been intimate with, is practically a stranger.
And she doesn’t own a bike.
Daniel realizes the scales are too unbalanced, his new placement in the company carrying quite a lot of poundage and importance, a position he’s been eyeing for years, not to mention the ridiculous salary and the cleaner air.
Janet finally arrives back in the living room dressed in a colorful flower-print blouse and dark gray skinny ponte pants to hopefully bolster the curves in her rather slim figure.
Daniel thinks and says she looks beautiful, although he speculates she’s been crying.
Daniel doesn’t mention the crying hypothesis to Janet because he always feels uncomfortable with raw emotion.
They choose a restaurant, and the couple who may no longer be a couple soon, go out.
At dinner, Daniel and Janet agree to see how the next several weeks go relationship-wise before taking any drastic measures.
Daniel is able to make Janet laugh again.
Daniel likes Janet’s laugh, which is an extremely important factor in any relationship.
Daniel experiences that damn lánsamur sorg again and vows to himself to meet with HR next week to see if there can be a promotion without relocation—a sort of middle ground in this conundrum.
The movie they see is nothing special.
It’s a rom-com that is, according to Daniel, too heavy-handed on the rom and a little thin on the com.
However, midway through the film, Janet holds Daniel’s hand, which Daniel finds encouraging.
Back at Janet’s apartment, the physical attraction between Daniel and Janet cannot be ignored.
Romance wields its ugly head again (as Shuddup describes it), and the couple who are pretending to be a couple (for the time being) wrinkle the sheets a bit too excessively, but nobody calls the authorities.
Sunday
Dan and Jan do what Dan and Jan do best.
All day.
Monday through Friday
Daniel waits outside his apartment door every morning until Janet exits hers.
(Janet and Daniel spend nights together but still shower and get dressed in their respective apartments.)
They exchange kisses and walk down the hall to the elevator.
The couple who are tentatively a couple also meet each evening after work, either out for dinner or at one or the other’s apartment.
Janet enjoys cooking, so she makes the majority of their meals when they eat in.
Daniel likes going out, so he pays for the majority of their meals when they dine at a restaurant.
Shuddup prefers eating without the new human in the apartment, who seems to make his caretaker somewhat religious when they are performing their mating ritual.
Over the course of these five days, Daniel and Janet pretzel-up each night in either Daniel’s or Janet’s queen-sized bed.
And, over the course of these five days, in non-queen-sized-bed activities, they have, without trying, learned a considerable amount of information about each other.
Here are a dozen random nuggets of personal information they have assimilated:
— 01. Daniel was in a plane crash.
— 02. Janet played the clarinet in her high school band.
— 03. Daniel’s shoe size.
— 04. Janet’s birthday.
— 05. Janet’s grandmother’s first name (Jeanette).
— 06. The reason Daniel’s father was imprisoned for two years.
— 07. Daniel once met Michelle Obama in a Target.
— 08. Janet’s personal goal is to read thirty books a year.
— 09. Daniel is genuinely proud he knows how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.
— 10. Janet once thought about becoming a chef.
— 11. Janet’s middle name is Marie.
— 12. Daniel once ate a jellyfish on a dare. (He was ten at the time.)
Janet has also learned Daniel uses an old hand towel to completely wipe down the bathtub tiles after he showers to prevent mold.
Daniel has also learned Janet is ticklish on her inner thigh, approximately three inches above her knee, but only on the left thigh.
Daniel’s visit to HR does not produce the outcome he desires; however, they did throw in an extra week of vacation.
The Following Several Weeks
Daniel and Janet journey through their remaining time together with full knowledge that their relationship is withering.
The couple who soon will no longer be a couple are well aware of this and spend each together-time in happy appreciation of the other’s company.
During alone time, there is much anguish.
Iceland does not hold a monopoly on this emotion.
Daniel calls many friends and family members for their opinion on the stay-or-go situation, looking for a sound reason to remain in his seventh-floor apartment in a city with not-so-clean air.
Unfortunately, for Daniel’s peace of mind, the verdict is unanimous: take the job, start over.
But most of these people haven’t met Janet.
The two friends who have met Janet, think she is wonderful but cannot understand why Janet refuses to make the move with Daniel.
Janet calls her friends and the family members she trusts for their perspective on the decaying romance.
No one wants Janet to move “a million miles away” (Janet’s mother’s phrase), and everyone reassures her that life will go on, and she will eventually meet someone new.
The one friend who has met Daniel thinks he’s nice and “has a great bod” but tells Janet “she could do better.”
Daniel tries a few more times to convince Janet to accompany him to a state with a greater chance of seeing an elk on a bike ride.
Janet puts a considerable amount of thought into it, but her position remains unchanged.
Daniel counters with the suggestion they take a weekend trip “out there” so Janet can get a better idea of where he will be moving.
Janet does not respond verbally to this, and her lopsided smirk confirms to Daniel her final opinion on the matter.
Daniel submits his 30-day notice to the apartment office and buys boxes and packaging tape.
Janet finally gets around to replacing Daniel’s toilet paper roll, toothbrush, and Peanut Butter Panda Puffs cereal.
The Final Two Weeks
Janet now experiences a reluctant acceptance of the entire situation, because there’s increased talk of Daniel’s upcoming departure, which is necessary but disheartening.
They continue to ride the elevator together on workdays.
They continue to spend evenings and nights together.
Shuddup is getting used to the tall stranger but won’t be losing any sleep after he’s gone.
One night, when Daniel and Janet entangle each other for the umpteenth time, two things occur nearly synchronously, so it’s difficult to discern which happens first—Janet begins to cry softly and Daniel fails to maintain his girth.
They lie in each other’s arms, as silent as an Icelandic sunset.
The couple who wanted so fervently to remain a couple are no longer a couple.
Janet resigns herself to the fact she will be making rigatoni alla Genovese for one again and orders several used books from Alibris.
Daniel is not looking forward to solitary nights again and plans to throw himself into his work.
Janet helps Daniel pack.
They crack silly jokes and sing along to the internet radio station Daniel had found one night a few months ago when the power went out.
For the first time in a while, Daniel and Janet sleep in their respective queen-sized beds in their respective apartments.
The next morning Daniel is waiting outside his door when Janet exits her apartment.
The couple who aren’t a couple hug for what seems like an excessive amount of time in the carpeted hallway on the seventh floor, but no one complains to the apartment office personnel.
The movers are scheduled to come at a time when Janet is at work.
Janet doesn’t take the day off.
Daniel doesn’t ask her to.
One Month Uncoupled
Daniel calls Janet twice a week since leaving their apartment house.
For some reason, he makes an excuse to call, but he just likes hearing her voice.
Janet calls Daniel two or three times a week for his opinion on one thing or another.
Shuddup never calls.
Daniel is considering enrolling in a cooking class.
Janet is considering purchasing a bike.
Two Months Uncoupled
Janet receives a package in the mail with a strange return address.
She takes it upstairs and opens it on her kitchen table.
It’s something she recognizes—an expensive set of chef’s knives that she had told Daniel she was thinking about buying for herself but couldn’t justify the hefty price tag.
Janet remembers the evening after dinner when they lazily strolled into the Williams Sonoma store.
Daniel joked with the salesperson, wondering if the knives would make an entertaining present for his four-year-old niece.
The note inside the box was handwritten in pencil and read: I wish I could have given you this in person, D.
At the exact moment that Janet decides to go into the bedroom and have a good cry, her sister calls to wish her a happy birthday.
Daniel gets a thank-you card in the mail.
He recognizes the return address.
Deciding to continue with the “great minds think alike” theme, Janet wrote it in pencil.
This is what she wrote:
Daniel,
You’re still full of surprises, but I think you went a little overboard.
I love the knives and I wish I could give you a big thank-you hug.
I hope you didn’t buy the same set for Harper!
I hope you are doing great,
Janet
Daniel smiles as he reads this, secure in the fact he finally did something right.
He isn’t completely sure, but he thinks he sees an erasure under the word hope.
Daniel suspects the original word was miss.
Three Months Uncoupled
Daniel goes into a bicycle shop and meets a woman who is employed there.
They end up talking for an hour and a half.
(It was a slow day at the bicycle shop.)
A week later, Daniel goes back to the store and asks the woman out for dinner.
She’s somewhat attractive, but Daniel doesn’t find her as attractive as Janet, but she is quite charming and down-to-earth.
And she owns three bicycles.
The dinner date is for Friday evening, but on Friday afternoon, she cancels by text.
No reason is given.
No further contact.
Now Daniel needs to find a new bicycle shop in town.
Janet is late for work and collides with a man exiting Daniel’s former apartment.
He’s not as tall as Daniel, but he’s taller than Janet.
It’s difficult to tell the quality of his forearms because he is wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
After an excuse me and an I’m sorry, Janet decides to introduce herself.
This is how she does it: “Hi, I’m Janet, apartment 710.”
“Nice to meet you, Janet; I’m Seth. Apartment… this one.”
“Nice to meet you as well.”
“My husband is Liam; should you ever find yourself, uh… bumping into him too.”
The two neighbors, who are definitely not a couple, share a laugh, and Janet apologizes again.
“I hope to see you two around sometime.”
“That would be nice.”
Janet takes the stairs down.
Seven flights.
Four Months Uncoupled
Daniel calls Janet to ask how long to boil rigatoni and if frozen garlic bread is any good.
Janet tells Daniel she is currently preparing her own dinner.
Dan and Jan end up eating together over the phone.
623 miles apart.
Janet calls Daniel to ask what size bicycle is suitable for a woman her height.
Daniel suggests a tricycle would be a good fit and texts her the URL for a toy store.
Six Months Uncoupled
Janet sends Daniel a selfie of herself on her new bike with her pretty, pink bicycle helmet.
In the photo, Janet is wearing a tight red shirt with pinkish horizontal pinstripes.
The next photo is a graphic shot of Janet’s bare knee, which is horribly scraped and bleeding.
Daniel sends Janet a photo of his newest culinary creation, Calamari in Red Sauce à la Daniel.
Unfortunately, it looks remarkably similar to Janet’s injured knee.
Eight Months Uncoupled
Daniel calls Janet, and after the usual banter, asks her if she has any vacation time.
“Yeah. Why?”
Janet is skeptical and doesn’t want to turn down another one of Daniel’s requests to visit him.
“I was thinking you and I could take a trip together…”
[Pause]
“…to Iceland!”
Daniel waits patiently for the laughter on the other end to cease.
Daniel sends Janet a few photos depicting the glæsilegt country, and Janet realizes Daniel is serious.
The English translation for that particular Icelandic word is splendorous.
Or something like that.
Daniel holds his phone to his ear, waiting for a response from the woman he thinks about every day.
Janet holds her phone to her ear, wishing Daniel was with her and not just popping up nightly in her dreams.
Daniel waits patiently and smiles while gazing at a small, framed piece of artwork hanging on the wall between two windows in his bedroom.
Inside the frame is an orange sticky note with feminine writing in blue marker, and a drawing of a smiley face with a wiggly grin.
Ah, well the last time I practiced Show Don't Tell, I got arrested. Thanks for the nice comment.
Probably my favourite thing i've ever read on Substack. It made me think about all the times I've heard people say "Show don't tell" but this story proves that if the telling is done well it can be every bit as good as showing.