I went out to dinner last night with my husband. Part of the way through the meal, he reached across the table, took my hand, looked me straight in the eyes and said sincerely, "I'm really struggling right now. There is a woman over there and she's dressed in a costume. I want so much to be present and here with you right now and I want you to know I'm struggling." I turned around and sure enough, there was a woman who was dressed in a uniform that, given the amount of cleavage and leg she was showing, clearly wasn't an actual uniform.Mark seemed sad and bewildered and anxious. "Why is she dressed that way? Is she in a show? Does she want to be the show?" I could tell he was thinking, "Why was she taking the focus away from our dinner together and onto herself?" And I said, "Honey, she's messed up." And thought, "You would know better than I why she's doing it." "She's the show," he said, shaking his head, and seemed to focus again.
Then I found myself laughing, because I looked at this crazy woman in her "I want to be your sex fantasy" costume and my husband struggling against his addiction, and that classic Bugs Bunny cartoon popped into my head: the one with the two starving men on the raft, each hallucinating that the other is food.
And when I looked at the woman again I saw this:

And this:

And this:
And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Enjoy some Bugs Bunny:

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