Couplehood by Paul Reiser- hillarious!. Review on Couplehood - Paul Reiser

Couplehood - by Paul Reiser Have you folks read this book by Paul Reiser called 'Couplehood'... if you haven't, then do... it is a must. Light and very entertaining. Mostly, observations and inferences on life as a couple (kinda obvious, huh?!) .. and also other notes thrown in... on the lines of seinfield, only- funnier. Have only finished reading half of it... but while I was laughing on my way to work, thought I should share what I was reading with this forum.

The author: Paul Reiser. Well, you would probably have heard of him by now... he's the guy from the sitcom that is being currently aired on Zee English (i think) called 'Mad About You' alongside Helen Hunt. He has authored another book... i.e. Babyhood. Another good read. Genre (and other words to describe): Humour. Non-fiction. Thoughtful. Light.

In General: 'Couplehood' is a book about couples... their lives, the nuances of living under the same roof and accomodating one another, the interactions with the 'outside' world... all put in a very light vein. The books is a great read... especially for couples; not in the mushy romance way though. I am keying in a few excerpts.. hope these interest you.

so you'll know where it starts and ends...

Excerpt 1: There is some stuff relating to people who come and fix it and stuff.. and how those 'guys' are relied upon to do everything when you first make your home... and don't know the electric mains from the drain vent.

''If you don't know what you're doing, you're at the mercy of anyone with a truck and a business card. And problems come up I never heard of. We had this snake in the backyard. Not a big snake but big enough to make me pass out. So I called the guy, the snake guy. Snake Man. That was his name. ''Snakes in the Yard? Call Snake Man.'' He had a truck with a little picture of a snake and everything. I said, ''We have a snake'' He says, ''Where?'' Once again, I say, ''Finding it will be pretty much up to you. I'm just telling you we have one.'' He looks around and then tells me, ''Listen the kind of snake you have there is fine. It's a good snake to have, because they scare away mice. You want these kind of snakes.'' I say ''Okey-dokey.'' And I pay him. For doing nothing. I give the man forty five dollars for allowing me to continue to have the snake I already had. So now I rest comfortably in the knowledge that I have no mice, because the mice are all scared of my snake. Then I remember, I'm scared of the snake, too. That's why I called teh guy in the first place. Evidently, the only way I'm going to get rid of this snake is to scare him with something bigger. A mongoose. A cheetah. But then I'll have to scare them away, and it will never end. The animals will just get bigger and bigger. I'm going to end up with a hippo in the living room. ''Don't worry, honey- they scare away the bison. Did you notice there were no bison around? Why do you think that is? They're scared. Nice, huh? Hippo Man was here today, he explained the whole thing; forty-five bucks, we're bison-free for a year''

Excerpt 2: On food... social meeting... and food+social meetings....

''The greatest social food of all time is Chinese food. The whole purpose of this particular cuisine is to share. You get lots of different things, put them in the middle of the table, and you all share. But I find, even with people I like, I can't stop taking inventory. I'm smiling, but I'm thinking, ''How many shrimps has he had so far? This fat bastard's got fourteen shrimps on his plate- two on his fork, three in his mouth that he didn't even chew yet; that's like nineteen shrimps. I've got three hundred snow peas and a dead noodle. . . . I can't even get a fork in there. The man is like a windmill''

Excerpt 3:

''And when couples go out socially, they're no longer people. They're couples. And couples don't talk like regular people. They become teams. Little tag-team storytelling teams. She starts, you finish, you start, she finishes. You correct each other, interrupt each other, and no one knows exactly who they should be listening to. Ever been out with four or five couples? It's like the Conversation Olympics. Whatever subjects come up, every couple has to complete. ''We had an experience like that, too.'' Then you step forward and tell your piteous little tale, and the conversation moves clockwise around the table, everybody telling their version of essentially the same story. By the time it gets to the semifinals, it gets very tough. Your story has to be more interesting than the last couple. If Couple Number One lost their luggage in Mexico, Couple Two lost their luggage and their passports. Couple Three has to beat that. ''We lost our luggage, our passports and our.... house was stolen, too. And our children! The whole family, everything. We called American Express and we got new kids the next day. . . two girls and a boy, so it worked out well - but for a while there, we were quite alarmed.'' Sometimes your team has no story. You have to huddle frantically with your partner: ''Honey, Honey, quick- do we have anything like that? Airport, luggage- anything? Remember you lost that comb that time? Is there anything in that?. . . Come on, hurry up, we're next. THINK, man, THINK. Okay, we're up.'' Big Smile. ''Yes, we had the same thing happen to us. . . this ws three years ago . . . .'' And you're off and running. Sometimes you're in the middle of your story, you look around the table, and you realize- nobody's listening. They're talking amongst themselves, paying the check. . . And you're thinking, ''Am I the dullest person in the world? What happened here?'' And then, the saddest moment in the world: You look at your wife and discover she's listening. She, who's heard the story a thousand times. But, God bless her, she doesn't have the heart to let your story plummet like a boulder. So she sits there pretending she's interested. And what's even more pathetic is you continue to tell her. You don't want to stop. ''You know, we once. . . anyone listening? You know, we once had a thing. . . in Florida, actually. . . We were in Florida''- and you turn right to your wife- ''Honey, remember in Florida, that time? The cabdriver at the airport. . .'' And finally she leans in discreetly and says, ''You can stop now, nobody's listening. You don't have to amuse me.'' ''But I was trying to amuse them'' ''But they're not listening.'' ''I listened to their stories.'' ''I know, honey, I know. . .''

Cheers

Sandeep