the pieces of my life

The low-point of my marriage. Actual conversation while walking down the streets of Portsmouth:

J: Rub my neck.

A. starts to massage neck.

J: Sometimes I worry that you’ll hit my Vulcan point, and I’ll just collapse on the street.

A: It’s not a Vulcan point, it’s a Vulcan grip.

J: Maybe it’s a combination of the grip and the point.

A: It’s not the point; it’s Vulcans who know how to do the grip.

J: Really?

A: Can we please not have this conversation ever again?

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