A list of peccadilloes, of character quirks.
Each Thanksgiving he goes with his family to the racetrack.
She laughs, points, and makes others watch as her dog humps a stuffed animal.
He’s creative cheap: he collected coupons from Wendy’s by dumpster-diving with his girlfriend, for free airfare.
When she’s about to fart, she announces it, even when she’s alone.
He eats boxes of toothpicks.
Her favoirte foods are jerky and cotton candy.
He brings his glove to every baseball game.
She feels old now that she can no longer do splits all three ways.
He cannot sleep with his feet covered.
She has an abnormal obsession with drinking enough water.
He cannot leave his apartment without telling a lie. "Wow did you see last night’s game or what?" He never responds with "or what."
She always wears a seat belt, even in the backseat of cabs.
He falls asleep each night listening to talk radio.
She’s terrified of open bleachers, frightful that she’ll slip and fall through.
He smells his dental floss when he’s done.
She must have two large cups of coffee each morning and then won’t do anything until she goes to the bathroom. She’ll even be late to work.
You cannot enter his apartment unless you’ve removed your shoes. He’s obsessed with his Persian carpet.
She hates anything canned.
He cannot sleep on airplanes, even on a twelve-hour flight, with Ambien.
She scoops the pumpkin filling out of pies and never eats crusts.
He prefers going to the bathroom, in their house, with the door open. He doesn’t like to be alone.
She is obsessed with her ear wax and wants to see a doctor who will vacuum her ears.
He sometimes puts his hands in the air and waits for her to quickly yank down his pants. Then he laughs like a girl.
She obsesses over moisturizer and Chapstick and all they touch, unable to concentrate after moisturizing her hands if her fingers leave marks on her keyboard, or she sees her own lip-print on a glass.
If he’s driving and sees roadkill, he pulls his own hair.
She will not hand over the remote without having the other person repeat, "I will not violate the covenant of the remote," because she believes if you pick something horrible to watch on television, it ruins the quality of the television.
He can have fruit, but never in or with his dessert, not even a garnish.
She washes her hair last when she showers.
Each time he hands her a knife or scissors, he won’t let go unless she says "got it."
Every time she goes through a toll-booth, she races all the other cars to the first road sign while singing the theme song to Raiders of The Lost Ark.
He covers his ears and pinches his eyes closed whenever anyone mentions anything medical.
She prefers white asparagus and cherries.
He thinks it’s vile when people remove their shoes on airplanes.
She rarely washes her hands after going to the bathroom. She only does it when she’s with people she knows.
He must, no matter where he is, run the water when he goes to the bathroom, even if it’s just to pee.
She prefers a scalp massage to any other.
When his grandmother had Alzheimer’s, she’d sometimes wake up and say, in an Indian accent, "Well, hello there," and she wasn’t Indian. It was like a restart button.
She insists on sitting on a rubber ball, instead of a chair, at work to strengthen her core.
When he’s trying to save money, he eats sweetened condensed milk, even though he won’t drink regular milk or have any dairy because he’s obsessed with the fact that humans are the only animals who still consume dairy when they’re no longer in their infancy.
When she’s nervous, she opens her mouth and uses two fingers to check and wipe any mouth goops from her corners. Even when there aren’t any there.
When a new popular song comes out, he spends an evening learning all the lyrics so when he’s around people he’ll seem cooler.
When she puts on her deodorant, he shouts the name of his fourth grade teacher with his eyes pinched closed. He refuses to watch her reenact exactly what Mrs. Lerman did in front of her students.
She likes the idea of peanut butter sandwiches, but she eats cream cheese and jelly sandwiches instead. She’s embarrassed that she doesn’t like peanut butter.
He eats cheese doodles and ice cream sandwiches mostly to eat their remnants on his fingers.
She thinks pig-tails and overalls are adorable on other women, but she’d rather take a shit in a public bathroom than be seen in either.
He brings his own salad dressing to restaurants, a bottle of it, wrapped in a crinkled plastic shopping baggie.
She lies to waitstaff, insisting she’s allergic to butter. "So the chef cannot use even a drop."
He drinks five cans of diet coke before noon each day.
She pronounces beautiful as if Beauty is actually full. "Oh, that’s so Beauty. Full."
He thinks books should never be used decoratively and once they’ve been read, they should be given away.
She collects miniature elephants, only if their trunks are up. "Otherwise," she insists, "it’s bad luck."
In his freshman face book, under "Thing that most disturbs you," he wrote, "getting splashed when you take a poop."
In her freshman face book, under "Thing that most disturbs you," she wrote, "men in leopard print, velvet, or Speedos. And ceiling fans."