Oops! Dave Did It Again (time is a flat circle)

My wife is a beautiful, wonderful, generous woman. Any time I can do something for her-- as long as I understand exactly what she wants to be done and I think I am capable of executing this task to her standard of excellence-- I do it.

Monday she had a Zoom meeting about school curriculum at 12:30 PM. Right smack in the middle of lunch. We are down at the beach in North Carolina and we were excited to order from a lauded seafood takeout place around the corner: Food Dudes Kitchen.

I volunteered to write down what everyone wanted, call and place the order, and go and pick-up the food. This is big for me-- I don't mind picking up the food, but I generally never volunteer to call and order because I'm awful on the phone. I can't hear that well and I really need to see people in person so I can use my good looks and charm. The phone just doesn't convey it.

But if this was going to please my wife, I was all in.

We looked over the menu; everything sounded good. We discussed every option, including the special. Then I wrote down the items we decided upon, so I could be coherent during the phone call. I can't talk on the phone unless I have something written down.

I successfully made the phone call. I ordered the food and noted when I had to go pick it up (see the above photo).

We then waited for a few minutes, killing time with our new family obsession, the NYT crossword app, and then Alex and I completed the pick-up.

Catherine was still on her Zoom meeting when we got back.

The food looked amazing. I was hungry. I opened the box containing my sandwich-- I had gotten the same thing as Catherine-- and then quickly checked the other box. Same thing. Mahi-mahi wrap with bacon and greens. Lightly breaded and fried.

Alex mumbled something about the color of my fish as I started eating, but I was so hungry I didn't hear him.

Catherine's meeting finished and she came down the stairs, opened her styrofoam container, took a look, wrinkled her nose, and said:" This is your sandwich. This is tuna. Where's mine? Did you eat mine?"

Oh no.

It was at that moment that I realized I did NOT order the same thing as my wife. I was GOING to order the same things as my wife, but then--at the last moment-- I switched to the fajita grilled tuna wrap.

It was right on my order sheet. I had written it down. You can see this for yourself in the document I have provided.

When I quickly opened the other box, to make sure we had the right stuff, I saw a wrap with some fish in it. And some green stuff surrounding the fish. I looked too quickly to notice that the fish was tuna (and this is why Alex made the comment about the color of my fish . . . mahi-mahi is whiter than tuna) and that the green stuff was avocado salsa, not greens.

Unfortunately, Catherine doesn't eat tuna.

I apologized a hundred times over. I had really really wanted to make lunch smooth, easy, and delicious for her. Instead, she made a salad.

My punishment was severe: I had to eat the fajita grilled tuna wrap for dinner. I shared it with Alex, who does like tuna. It was superb. The whole thing was totally unfair, and it was completely my fault.

Looking back, it seems insane that I did this. I had WRITTEN DOWN my order and it wasn't the same as my wife's order. I looked at the sandwiches. But my brain reset to the first thing I decided upon, which was to get the same thing as my wife. And I was hungry. And stressed from making a phone call.

The worst thing is that I have done this before. Twelve years ago, I ate someone's sandwich in the English Office. And while she was pretty and blonde and a teacher, she wasn't my wife. The circumstances were equally absurd, and I had plenty of chances to NOT eat her lunch. But I suppose it is my destiny to repeat history over and over . . . Nietzche's eternal recurrence. Rust Cohle's "flat circle."

All I can say to these people, these people whose sandwiches I have eaten, these people whose sandwiches I will eat, is this: I'm sorry . . . I wish I could control this, but everything we've ever done, we're going to do it over and over again. Some combination of low blood sugar and intense hunger and airheadedness and difficulty with auditory communication without visual clues and the fact that I do things too fast, especially eating, is going to set up the same circumstances. Again and again. Over and over. It is my destiny, to eat your sandwich.