Originally Posted: 2004-02-06 11:45pm
Rave: My OCD ex-girlfriend
This is a rave to my ex-girlfriend “Mary,” whom I still love dearly, though our romantic relationship has long since passed.
Mary suffers from a hardcore case of obsessive compulsive disorder. If you’ve never known anyone with OCD, just watch the television show Monk on USA. Mary is a lot like Monk, though her own quirks are unique, and frankly, Monk is tame compared to her.
I first met Mary when she noticed I was counting the number of bricks on a wall. Yes, I have my own obsessive tendencies… Don’t ask me how she noticed – I guess we OCDs have a certain radar. And a very keen sense of observation. It was probably obvious to her.
“Four-hundred and twenty,” she said to me. Startled, I stopped counting and looked up.
“You count too?” I asked.
“I take this bus every day—I’ve counted it a hundred times at least, just to be sure.”
That’s how we met, and I obviously knew right away she was a little different, which was fine, because—like I said—so am I. We chatted for a few minutes and I asked her if she wanted to get a drink sometime. She agreed, though she specified that she didn’t drink alcohol—we’d have to meet for coffee. Alcohol made it too hard to count. Fine by me.
A month later, and we were in a pretty serious relationship. Mary is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She takes an average of 1,450 steps to get to her bus stop, with a standard deviation of 2. Trust me. When she brushes her teeth, she repeats the EXACT same brush strokes in the same pattern, every time. When she gives head, she sucks 25 times on the shaft before licking the balls… 10 licks on the balls… 25 more on the shaft. I didn’t notice at first, but once I got to realize that EVERYTHING in her life was counted, I picked up the pattern. At first, it was a turnoff. Then, it was as big a turn on as I’d ever had. I’d count with her—the anticipation was tremendous. My fantasies were not wild thoughts of sex with strangers… No, I’d get hot and bothered just thinking about what would happen if, out of nowhere, she only did TWENTY licks?? That may sound strange, but the anticipation and mental gaming was astounding.
To teach herself how to type, she began practicing typing to Pink Floyd songs when she was sixteen. She’d put on a Pink Floyd record and just type the lyrics as they came out. Since she learned that way, she got to the point where EVERY time she heard Pink Floyd, she HAD to type the lyrics. If you’ve never had an OCD friend, you can play lots of fun games. For example, when Mary is in the middle of brushing her teeth, just the way she likes it, I’d sometimes turn on a Pink Floyd record. Shit would hit the fan – you could see the panic in her face. Do I stop brushing and start typing? But wait, then my brushing pattern would be interrupted! Usually, she’d just rapidly finish her brushing pattern and then start typing. Or, I’d just turn the Pink Floyd off. She had a great sense of humor, though. She never got mad.
There were so many other quirky, crazy things about Mary that I loved. Unfortunately, I moved to Washington to take a new job, and we broke things off, though we are still wonderful friends. I really miss my OCD lover. You’re the best, babe.