Limones, flores y platos

(Brooke y Gary son una pareja conviviendo juntos. Van a tener una cena con las familias de ambos. Gary llega del trabajo, le da a Brooke una bolsa con limones que ella le pidió que comprara y se tira al sofá a ver tele)

Brooke: Gary
Gary: Yeah?
Brooke: You got three lemons
Gary: What my baby wants my baby gets, you know that
Brooke: No, but I wanted twelve. Baby wanted twelve
Gary: Why would you want twelve lemons?
Brooke: Because I’m making a twelve lemons centerpiece
Gary: So, no one’s gonna actually even eating them? They’re just show lemons?
Brooke: Yeah, they are just show lemons. Showing in the center of the table. Glad that you find it amusing, but I cannot fill the bowls with only three lemons
Gary: Why can’t you just use like, maybe, a drinking glass? We’ll have a smaller version of the centerpiece
Brooke: I’m not gonna use a drinking glass for our centerpiece!
Gary: You know what? I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go ahead and scratch the centerpiece idea all together? Because the chicken, that burned my mouth, could maybe use a little bit of lemon on top of it. Guess what? Now we made a better meal, of course there’s something visually nice to look at
Brooke: What are you— (Mira alrededor del living, a él en el sofá con una gaseosa y mirando la tele) What’s happening here? What are you doing? What are you doing?!
Gary: I had such a long day on the bus. My feet are killing me (Se acuesta, se saca los zapatos y los deja ahí tirados)
Brooke: Gary, come on. (Junta los zapatos) My feet are killing me too. I worked all day, I went to the market, I cleaned this entire condo, and I’ve been cooking for the last three hours. Come on, set the table
Gary: (Mira la mesa a medio poner) Sweetheart…
Brooke: What?
Gary: You made such a great job already. Why— Don’t you wanna finish it yourself and have that personal power that accomplishment?
Brooke: Ha, set the table
Gary: Listen to me. You think that when Michelangelo, right?, was painting the Sixteenth Chapel, that he said ‘Hey guys! You know, I did pretty good on the first fifteenth chapels, but why don’t you help me design this one? And you could help me, ah, get me a brush and you guys can grab brushes and we can all make a great chapel…’ Uh-uh, he didn’t. And you know what the results were? A master piece… (Y señala la mesa)
Brooke: Okay… Uh… It’s the Sistine Chapel, not the sixteenth… And I bet that when Michelangelo asked for twelve brushes they didn’t bring him three
Gary: Okay, all the talking is really starting to grey me and now I have to watch the highlights that I sit just to watch here…
Brooke: Gary, look, just— just take a shower, okay? ‘Cause this is what I don’t want to have happened: I don’t want the doorbell to ring, I’m then forced to answer the door, entertain people, and I’m still cooking dinner
Gary: Yeah
Brooke: Okay?
Gary: You’re absolutely right, let’s do that… The second that this set is over, there’s one hour ready
Brooke: Gary, they will be here in twenty minutes
Gary: Baby, have you ever seen a shower of mine take more than four minutes?
Brooke: Yes, I have! Come on! (Suena el timbre) Oh, great! They’re here, okay, table’s off already so don’t you please get my parents—
Gary: I gotta get in the shower (Se levanta y se va)
Brooke: What? Gary! Gary! (Se queda parada sola mientras el timbre sigue sonando. Va y lo atiende)


(Después de la cena y que se vayan todos los invitados, Gary se tira en el sofá a jugar videojuegos)

Brooke: I’m gonna go do the dishes
Gary: Cool
Brooke: Would be nice if you helped me
Gary: *Dammit* No problem… Uh, I’m getting a little bit late, i’m just gonna… ‘Cause the streets are full of little girls…
Brooke: Gary, come on, i don’t wanna do them later, let’s just do it now, takes fifteen minutes
Gary: Oh, I’m so exhausted. I just honestly want to relax for a little bit, if I could just sit here while my food digest. I’m just trying to enjoy the quiet for a little bit— (Grita al videojuego) Get some! Get some! Get some! That’s what hapens. And we will, you know, we can clean the dishes tomorrow
Brooke: Gary, you know, I don’t like waking up to a dirty kitchen
Gary: Who cares?
Brooke: I care! All right? I care! I busted my ass all day cleaning this house and then cooking that meal, and I worked today. It would be nice if you said ‘Thank you’ and helped me with the dishes
Gary: Fine. (Tira el joystick al piso) I’ll help you do the damn dishes
Brooke: Oh, come on. You know what? No, that— See? That’s not what I want
Gary: You’ve just said that you want me to help you do the dishes
Brooke: I want you to want to do the dishes
Gary: Why would I want to do dishes? Why?
Brooke: See? That’s my whole point.
Gary: Let me see if I’m following this, okay? Are you saying that you’re upset because I don’t have a strong desire to clean dishes?
Brooke: No, I’m upset because you don’t have a strong desire to offer to do the dishes
Gary: I’ve just did!
Brooke: After I asked you!
Gary: Jesus, Brooke, you’re acting crazy again
Brooke: Don’t you call me crazy, I’m not crazy
Gary: I did’t call you crazy. No, I didn’t. I said that you’re acting crazy
Brooke: You know what, Gary? I asked you to do one thing today, one very simple thing, to bring me twelve lemons, and you brought me three
Gary: Goddammit… If I knew that it was gonna be this much trouble, I would have brought home twenty-four lemons, even a hundred lemons— You know what I wish? I wish that everyone sitting in that goddamn table had its own private bagpack of lemons
Brooke: It’s not about the lemons!
Gary: But that’s all you’re talking about!
Brooke: I’m just saying that, it’d be nice if you did things that I asked, it would be nicer if you did things without me having to ask you!
Gary: Well, I do seem to remember doing something for you this morning without you asking
Brooke: Gary… Come on…
Gary: I’m serious
Brooke: I am serious! I really am. Come on, you knew I was working today, and I made that meal and… You could have thought to yourself, you know, you could have said ‘I think I’m gonna give Brooke some flowers’
Gary: You said on our very first date that you don’t like flowers, that they’re a waist of money
Brooke: Every girl likes flowers, Gary
Gary: You said that you don’t like flowers. I’m supposed to take that to mean that you do like flowers?
Brooke: No, this is not about— You are not, you are not— Grr, you are not getting it. You are not getting this, Gary, okay? You know, it’s not about the lemons, it’s not about the flowers, it’s not about the dishes. It’s just that— How many times do I have to drop hints about the ballet?
Gary: You know I can’t stand— Brooke, come here! We talked about the damn ballet! I hate the goddamn ballet! You have a bunch of dudes in tights floaping around for three hours, it’s like a medieval techno show. It’s a nightmare! I sit down and sweat, the whole thing— I do. Wonder ‘When is the goddamn thing gonna end?’… Going to damn ballet…
Brooke: It’s not about you loving the ballet, Gary. It’s about the person that you love loves the ballet, and you don’t want to spend time with that person
Gary: Not when we have to go the ballet
Brooke: Okay, forget the ballet! Forget the ballet! We don’t go anywhere together
Gary: We just went to Ann Harbour together
Brooke: To Ann Harbour! To the Michigan-Notre Dame game! You think screaming drunk kids and leprechauns doing backflips, that’s fun, that’s fun for me? Come on, I did that for you. How do you show up for me?
Gary: I’m up on the bus every goddamn day for you!!
Brooke: Come on!
Gary: I busted my ass to be the best tour guide in the damn city, so I can make enough money just to pour both of us, and hopely you won’t have to work one day!
Brooke: I want to work!
Gary: All I ask, Brooke, is that you show a little bit of appreciation. That I just get twenty minutes to relax when I come home, instead of being attacked with questions and nag the whole damn thing
Brooke: You think that I nag you?!
Gary: That’s all you do!! All you do is nag me! ‘The bathroom’s a mess’ ‘Your belt doesn’t match’ ‘Hey, Gary, you should probably go work out’ Nothing I ever do is ever good enough! I just want to be left the hell alone!
Brooke: Really? Is that what you want, Gary? Is that what you want?
Gary: Yeah
Brooke: Is that what you want?
Gary: Yeah
Brooke: Fine, great, do whatever the hell that you want. You leave your socks all over this house, dress like a pig, play your stupid ass videogame. I don’t care. I’m done
Gary: What?
Brooke: I’m done! I don’t deserve this, I really do not deserve this. I deserve somebody who gives a shit. I’m not spending one more second of this life with some inconsiderate prick. You’re a prick! (Se va pegando un portazo)


Estos son diálogos de la película The Break Up > http://www.megavideo.com/?v=N45YNFQN (Viviendo con mi ex acá) que la verdad me abrieron los ojos. No es LA película, pero yo por lo menos nunca había visto una pelea hogareña tan realista.
Con esto me di cuenta que: no sos al único que le pasa lo de pelearse con su familia por boludeces monumentales (de hecho, a todos les pasa) y que las peleas casi nunca tienen que ver con un verdadero problema de oposición de opiniones irreconciliables (del tipo “estudiás lo que yo te digo, carajo!”… eso ya no pasa). No. Es una cuestión de predisposición, predisposición a dar algo por el otro. Aunque sea, mínimamente, una reacción civilizada.
Yo he pasado por momentos de confusión total de no entender cómo se pasó de la ropa sucia, el cuarto desordenado, el pasto no cortado a los gritos y no dirigirme la palabra por semanas con mi mamá. Bueno, es que uno cuando discute está muy propenso a ciertos vicios peligrosos. El malhumor, el enojo, las excusas (o justificaciones, dependiendo del punto de vista), las culpas… pero principalmente, el egoísmo y el egocentrismo.
Cuando piden colaboración, uno piensa que hicimos taaanto, que merecemos taaanto un descanso… pero cuando es el otro el que no levanta un dedo, es inevitable desvalorarlo y decir “pst, si vos no hacés un carajo…”. Nunca enfocamos nuestras energías a resolver el problema, sino que nos dedicamos a encontrar argumentos que nos liberen de culpas.
Cuando miraba esas escenas, era inevitable ver que ambos argumentos tenían un punto (el que pide colaboración y el que pide tener sus tiempos). Porque, aunque lo normal es que la falla esté en que algunos miembros no ayuden, a veces puede estar también en que se exijan cosas absurdas, innecesarias, excesivas, o que nunca se esté conforme con lo que pueden hacer los demás.
Pero al ser externo, uno también puede ver qué actitudes fueron la firma en el acta de defunción, que tienen que ver justamente con el temperamento. Es así gente, no importa que razonamiento superlógico te digan, si te lo dicen (o te parece que te lo dijeron) de forma agresiva o combativa, vos vas a tratar de refutarlo y defenderte. Todo lo que vamos a tratar de lograr siempre es encontrar justificativos para poder seguir con nuestra forma de ser y actuar.
Pero bueno, ahí es donde uno se caga en el otro con el que convive, que se supone que uno quiere, aprecia, o lo que sea. Estamos todos bajo este mismo techo, y todos queremos un hogar lo mas reconfortante posible. No tenemos, muy probablemente, los mismos métodos o las mismas maneras de manejarnos, por eso hay que conciliar y ceder para lograr un término medio entre todos. Pero es tan díficil –imposible, para mí- determinar hasta donde tendría que ceder cada uno para llegar a un punto equitativo y justo. Supongo que así es como quedan los roles de “él trae el pan a la mesa, ella limpia la mesa”, convengamos que es mucho más simple que pensar que cada uno traiga medio pan y limpie media mesa… pero eso sería lo más justo.
Si a este problema de división de tareas en partes iguales (no solo en cantidad, sino también en calidad) le agregamos relaciones jerárquicas, estamos al horno. Porque en una parejita somos ambos igual de importantes, pero en una familia mirá si le vamos a decir a papá que baldee la entrada, o mirá si me van a decir a mí (el retoño de la familia) que pague la luz, el agua y el gas.
Estamos en un punto odioso en el que es aceptable pedir igualdad de condiciones pero todavía tenemos incorporadas las costumbres pasadas de que el hombre haga el trabajo importante y duro, y la mujer, el denigrante y fácil. Yo solo me tranquilizo pensando que, cuando me vaya de mi casa, voy a poner yo las reglas y todo va a ser más justo. Pero la verdad es que ya me voy a acostumbrar a vivir con la/s persona/s con la/s que viva y a dejar de ser tan servicial y simpática como al principio (y viceversa), y probablemente voy a tener hijos que traten de hacer menos de lo que yo hacía en mi casa.
Así que bueno… mami, vos elegiste tener una familia. Sabé que está implícito en el contrato que vas a ser la mucama de todos. Si es difícil hacerle un cambio de conciencia a una persona, imaginate a tres a la vez.