Couplehood

by Paul Reiser

Overview

In the tradition of the #1 best-seller SeinLanguage, Bantam Books proudly presents the first book by Paul Reiser, television's sharpest, funniest observer of love, marriage and other mysteries of  life. A veteran comic performer, Reiser is best-known  as the co-creator and star of the highly-rated NBC comedy, "Mad About You", which Time Magazine called "The season's best new sitcom" in its 1992 debut. Every Thursday night more than twenty million viewers watch as Paul Reiser reveals the most intimate and hilarious scenes of a marriage. Now for the first time, Reiser brings his trademark wit to the page in a book that will delight his eagerly-awaiting audience, and anyone else who has ever fallen in love — or tried not to. In Couplehood, a New York Times bestseller for more than 40 weeks, Reiser reflects on  what it means to be half of a couple — everything from the science of hand holding, to the technique of tag-team storytelling, to the politics of food and why it always seems to come down to chicken or fish.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780553573138
Publisher:	Random House Publishing Group
Publication date:	09/01/1995
Edition description:	Reprint
Pages:	224
Sales rank:	1,131,073
Product dimensions:	4.16(w) x 6.88(h) x 0.50(d)

About the Author

Paul Reiser is a seasoned actor, writer, and stand-up comedian. In addition to co-creating and starring in the critically acclaimed NBC series Mad About You, which garnered him Emmy, Golden Globe, American Comedy Award, and Screen Actors Guild nominations for Best Actor in a Comedy Series, his successes also include his book Couplehood, which sold more than two million copies and reached the number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list. Babyhood, his follow-up book and another New York Times bestseller, features his trademark humorous take on the adventures of being a first-time father.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 9 - Chicken or Fish

With someone you love, food becomes politics.

We're in a restaurant and I'm about to eat a big fried piece of something crusty, and my loved one, very discreetly, gives me the little "Do you really want that?" look.  I think, "She's probably right."  And I pass.

Later — during the same meal, she orders some Chocolate Sticky Pie of Death, and I, in the most loving tone I can muster, step into the ring with "Sweetie, are you going to be upset later if you eat that?"

She looks at me for a long time, tells the waiter to go away, and then flings one of those really big spoons at my throat.

I say, "Hey, wait a minute, you said the same thing to me."

She says, "Yeah, ‘cause you don't mind."

"Right, because you said it out of Love.  Out of Concern."

"That's right."

"So, if I say the same thing to you, wouldn't you naturally assume that I — "

"It's different."

"Why?"

"Because I mind."

You see how it works?  There are different eating rules for each of you.  But, again, you don't know what they are until you've broken them.

We're out for dinner, the food comes, and I jump in.  I grab the pepper thing and put some pepper on the food.  I start eating.

And I notice I'm getting the look.  I've done something wrong.  I look up. "What?"

She skips the specific and goes straight to the general.  Very sweetly:  "Let me make it easy for you:  If you ever have something, anything at all, please see if I'd like some."

I said, "Do you want pepper?"

She goes, "No, but I might."

"But you didn't actually want —"

"It would be nice of you to think of me."

"Okay, I understand that, but just to clarify about the pepper — you don't want any."

"No, thanks."

"You're not interested in pepper."

"Not this time."

See?  We were just setting the rules for next time.


Sometimes you have to make up rules as you go along.

Example:

My bride is trying not to eat meat.  I try to be supportive.

"Do you want me not to eat this chicken in front of you?"

"No, no, it's fine."

" ‘Cause I don't want you to be tempted and then eat it and feel bad about it."

"I won't."

"And I don't want you to make me feel bad about eating meat."

"No, no, I won't."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Eat the chicken."

Fine.  So I'm eating the chicken, and I notice she keeps watching me eat.

I say, "What?"

She picks up my plate and with a real sad face says to my food, "I'm sorry people eat you, Mr. Chicken."

"Hey!"

"What?" she says.

I say, "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

I had to think for a second, then came up with, "Don't apologize to my food when I'm eating it."

Isn't that sad?  That was the best rule I could think of.  In case it ever came up again, and we needed to refer to a mutually agreed upon bylaw, I decreed that from that point forth, "Thou shalt not apologize to my food while I'm eating it."

That should pretty much cover it.  With, of course, the universally accepted sub-clause:  "And don't call my food ‘Mister.'"


Chapter 12 — The "Turn Around and Look"

I was recently out for dinner with my loved one and noticed a striking woman sitting a few tables over.  Now, because I'm not an idiot, I made a point of not noticing her.  You wouldn't believe how I didn't notice her.  She could have burst into flames — I'm telling you, I wouldn't have noticed.

My wife notices I'm not noticing.

She says, "She is cute."

"Who?"

"‘Who?'" she says, mocking me.  Miss 110 pounds of blonde over there."

"Where?"

"Oh stop."

I didn't even get credit for not looking.  I was apparently whimpering like a dog trying not to go for the biscuit on his nose.

Now, if you're ever out with the One For Whom You've Forsaken All Others, and you do find you're inadvertently gazing at an Other, you can try to recover some dignity by pretending you're looking for some specific reason.

"Hey, Honey, doesn't that woman look like your cousin Cheryl?"

And if they want to cooperate, they'll say, "Where? Her? She looks nothing like Cheryl."  And you laugh it off.  "I guess I'm just a big idiot," and you keep walking.

Or, you say, "Hey, look at that girl over there.  She's got a stomach like a guy."

Your loved one turns around.  "Where?"

"Oh, you can't see it now.  She just sat down."

The key to this one is bringing it up first.  Otherwise, you have that much more ill will to overcome.

Now again, I'm not proud of this behavior.  I'm just passing it on to you, the consumer.



Sometimes, you can both stare at people and enjoy a rousing game of "Let's Figure Out What's Wrong With Them."  Fun in airports, restaurants, wherever you go.

"See that girl over there — with the earrings?  She's with security.  Used to be CIA."

"Okay.  The guy over there — eating by himself?  Just broke up with his girlfriend."

"No, she left him."

"For her aerobics instructor."

"Good call."

"Okay, okay, okay — the lady over there, with the two kids?  Those are not her children."

"She's not even related."

"She takes different children out every weekend, because she loves children but is sadly unable to have any of her own."

"Because of a radiation leak in the town where her husband used to work."

"Which killed him, by the way."

"Yeah, because otherwise, how come he's not here?"

"Exactly."


Watching other couples is even more fun.  You can make up stories and be really judgmental at the same time.

"Oh, they're not happy at all."

"No, they're not. . . Look how he doesn't look at her when she's talking."

"Just keeps eating his soup. . . she's talking, he's eating. . . "

"You know, they haven't made love in over five months."

"Because he's cheating on her."

"And she knows about it."

"Of course she knows."

"That's what she's talking about.  She knows who the woman is, where they've been meeting. . ."

"And he can't look up because she'll see it in his eyes —"

"And she'll know she's right."

"Of course she's right."

"Bastard."

"Makes me sick."


Of course, sometimes it backfires and blows up in your face.

"See that couple over there?"

"Yeah?"

"Look how he keeps squeezing her arm.  And he really looks at her when she's talking.  I love that."

"I look at you when you're talking. . . I mean, not now, because we're looking at them, but ordinarily. . . "

"Are they more affectionate than us?"

"No."

"They look really affectionate."

"They're not.  They're exactly the same amount affectionate as we are.  In fact, if anything, less so."

Then we watch them a little more desperately, looking for flaws.

"Do you like her hair?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me my hair doesn't look like that."

"It doesn't."

"Really?"

"You can't even compare.  You have beautiful hair, and hers is all dyed and yucky and stupid.  She has stupid hair."

"She really does, doesn't she?"

"I'm telling you."

A moment.  "Then how come he's so affectionate?"

Editorial Reviews

Cited by Time magazine as "the season's best new sitcom" in its 1992 debut, NBC's hit comedy, Mad About You, has collected his comic observations about life and love in Couplehood, a New York Times bestseller for more than 40 weeks.

In Couplehood, Reiser reflects on what it means to be half of a couple — everything from the science of hand holding, to the technique of tag-team storytelling, to the politics of food and why it always seems to come down to chicken or fish.

From the Publisher

From the star of Mad About You, this look at love and romance spent 31 weeks on PW's bestseller list. (Sept.)

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

As cocreator and star of the NBC sitcom Mad About You, Reiser examines the idiosyncrasies of couplehood and many other topics as he narrates his best-selling book with impeccable timing and a relaxed, conversational style. He takes the usual comedian material-babies, remote controls, household chores-and makes them refreshingly hilarious with his ability to point out their inherent humor. Although each chapter is titled, Reiser builds on his subjects without rambling, keeping each topic entertaining as well as allowing listeners to enjoy the cassettes randomly. From mail order catalogs ("Who is Victoria and what is the big secret, anyway?") to his parents' conversations ("you never hear about someone who is a spring chicken..."), Reiser consistently demonstrates his uncanny ability to connect with everyone sooner or later. It is this universal appeal that makes Couplehood a necessary purchase for public libraries.-Susan McCaffrey, Legg Middle Sch. Lib., Coldwater, Mich.

Library Journal