Questioning Questions?

I ask meaningless questions, allegedly.

Boyfriend told me this with an accompanying eye roll immediately after I looked over at him and asked: “how often do you think someone throws up in the back of that cruiser?!” while we were watching “Cops.” [Please ignore the fact that we were watching “Cops.”]

Little does he know that I have only shared a small tidbit of the reel of questions that I actually had.

Why did the police just shove a smelly, fat, drunk man into the back of the car that they drive every day? How much booze does it take to get this giant human being as drunk as he currently is? Do they have a special transport car for those in custody that smell like perma-drunk? How do they drive a car that smells like perma-drunk man every day? What does a person that fat and that drunk even smell like? What if it is extremely hot? How do they get the smell out? This man is so drunk he is slurring. What happens if he throws up in the cop car? Do they have a giant hose to clean the car? Can they charge the drunk giant for throwing up in the police car?

These are all questions I had asked myself that I opted not to ask.  Really, he was lucky that I only asked one.

It was then that I realized that I may be the only person who contemplates these types of questions while watching reality law enforcement television, which leads me to my next question: how does no one else think about this?!

I had a similar experience last weekend when I realized that I am the only one who finds favoritism in Pottery Barn magazine extremely distracting.

For Pottery Barn and wasps everywhere, the monogram is an interior decorating staple, and thereby is a feature in every magazine. I find the monogram to be extremely distracting and have to investigate it with every PB mag I look in. Want to know my question?  Who has the monogram CME? CME is sewn onto something in every single Pottery Barn magazine, a close second being MHK. Go ahead. Look. My questions begin:

Who is CME? Does some big-wig Pottery Barn executive have a wife with the monogram CME? Does she get everything? How many monogrammed pieces can a single person own?  Who are the other monograms?  Where do these monogrammed products go after their use in the magazine?  Is there an employee rotation? Do they play psychic and assume someone with those initials will buy it and ship them used goods? Can I be put on the list of monograms?  Who gets the dog bed that says “Coco?!”

For a moment, after Boyfriend called me out on asking pointless questions, my feelings were hurt. Am I really that abnormal because my brain continues to ask? I’ve decided no. I’d rather be overly questioning than overly boring.