Our first case study was stumbled upon by Marcus, who deduced that the best place to look for conflict would be in a car on a dark road of sufficient distance from a town such that the couple to be found within where neither new to each other (she'd never trust a blind date on this road) but at the same time not too familiar, since any woman would learn not to put up with a man's "shortcuts" after awhile.

Marcus found them driving back from the dog track at about 11:30 at night, summer, on the outskirts of a Midwestern city. Marcus figured that was about right, since, again, you don't take a blind date or your wife to the dog track. Marcus is smart. Next week he starts Estrogen treatments, and we expect him to get a whole lot smarter.

They are Jerry and Helen, dating for about a year, living together for about 4 months. He's a sales manager at a sporting good's store, 5'11'', 160 lbs, brown hair, brown eyes, rightish politics, a peculiar fascination with 70's folk rock band Kansas. She's a consultant for a computing firm, 5'7'', 125 lbs, blonde hair, blue eyes, strict democrat ticket regardless, likes to collect luffas. The car is his, a '96 Jag which he bought with money he won in the state lottery. The ride back has been silent, because they didn't do well at the track, losing about $95, and because she hates standing in line for the bathroom and he hates waiting for her. We pick up the conversation as it starts, three miles into the ride home.

I want a divorce

What?

I want a divorce, Jerry

We're not married.

I don't care, I want a divorce.

You got to be married first, and I told ya, I'm not ready for marriage.

Why not?

What?

What's so wrong with marriage?

We've talked about this

Tell me again.

Nothing.

So it's me, then.

No. Not exactly.

What do you mean, not exactly.

I don't know.

Yes you do. You hate me.

Don't be stupid.

Oh, so now I'm stupid.

Of course not, you idiot.

Than why won't you marry me?

I said, I'm not ready.

Will you ever be ready?

Someday.

When?

Soon?

Soon. Sure.

Look, I love you, okay?

Too bad. I want a divorce.

Well, you can't have one.

Yes I can.

No you can't. We have to be married first.

Is that a proposal?

No!

Aha! You are afraid.

Afraid? Who said anything about afraid?

You did.

I didn't.

You did.

I did not!

You said you weren't ready.

There is a fundamental difference, darling, between fearing something, and merely being unready.

Don't you darling me.

For example, am I ready to practice medicine?

You can darling me all you want when you give me that ring.

No, I am not ready to practice medicine. But I certainly don't fear it.

Ha. You can't stand the sight of so much as hangnail.

Don't be dumb.

Dumb, stupid, idiot, your must love me, words like that.

Well, what am I suppose to say?

Say you're sorry and don't want me to divorce you.

Damnit! You can't divorce me! We aren't married!

We might as well be.

Perhaps that's true, but you still have to use a different word.

And since when am I like medicine?

What?

Just now. Your dumbass analogy.

At least I never said dumbass

But you were thinking it.

Do you have PMS?

[apparently, violence ensued at this point]

Damnit! I'm trying to drive! Do you want to kill us both?

Anything is better than this marriage, even death.

Well good, because we're not married.

Good? You'd rather be dead than marry me?

I didn't say that!

You implied it.

Aha! YOU were the one who implied it! You said anything is better than this marriage, even death.

So?

So I got you there, didn't I

You don't got anything, buster, I'm divorcing you.

Okay, fine, we'll call it that. Okay. Why?

Because there's no better word for it.

No, not why are we calling it that. Why do you want a divorce.

I don't just want one, jack, I'm getting one.

Why?

Do you have to ask?

Yes!

Why?

Because I don't know why!

God, you are so mean to me.

What? What did I say?

If you don't know why I want a divorce, Jerry, than I guess I better get one.

What? Jesus Christ, it's like my head is imploding

If you don't know why you hate me so much, then I guess that is good enough reason to divorce you.

Just tell me.

Tell you what?

Why you want a divorce.

I just told you.

For the love of God! And your mother! Just tell me what I did!

You don't know?

NO!

You'll think I'm stupid.

No. I won't.

Yes you will. You'll say 'that's so stupid.'

No I won't. Tell me.

You never put the seat down.

[several seconds went by while Jerry tried to get the car back under control].

See, I knew you'd think it was stupid.

I am going to drive us right into that wall over there, I swear to god.

Better not, mister. I'm divorcing you so that makes it murder.

First of all, we are not married. Got that? Not married. No ceremony, no ring, no bouquet of flowers. That means no divorce. Got it? Break up with me, dump me, leave me, whatever, but it is NOT divorce. AND EVEN IF WE WERE MARRIED IT WOULD STILL BE MURDER!!!!

Does that mean you want to marry me?

[head vibrating, jaw locked open, a small gasping noise coming from way back in his throat]

Jerry?

Yes. Okay? Yes. Yes I will marry you. Is that what you want?

When?

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'm having lunch with my mother.

Invite her.

What about my sister.

The one in Canada?

Nova Scotia.

Call her tonight. I'll buy her plane ticket.

Really?

First class!

Jerry.

We'll rent her a car!

Jerry, damnit.

A Lexus! No, A Jag! To hell with it, she can have mine.

You're not funny.

Yes I am. I'm very funny. You are marrying a very funny man, dear.

Don't dear me. When I see that ring, you can dear me.

And day after tomorrow, we get the divorce.

Oh just shut up.

You can bring your mom for that, too.

You're an ass.

You want the kids?

No.

I don't want them. You want the house?

We live in a studio, Jerry.

House is yours, but no alimony, deal?

Bull! I keep that studio neat as a button while you're off flirting with Darlene, and you expect me to just pick up and get a job like that?

Darlene?

Your secretary, mister tomcat.

She's a hundred years old!

She wears orange lipstick.

Wait wait wait. You already have a job.

I'm quitting.

Not if we're get divorced you're not.

We're not really married, Jerry.

Oh. My. God.

[silence]

Oh my. God.

What.

I think- yes- I think my lung just collapsed.

What?

And- yes, I think- yes, my kidneys. They just exploded.

Asshole.

You have killed me.

Good.

I am a dead man.

Good.

I'm dead.

Good.

[several minutes of silence, then.]

Jerry? Were you serious about getting married?

[the sound of growling and teeth grinding together].