Wednesday, May 16, 2007

 

Cycle

-After first baby she became iron about losing weight. Health club, starvation!
But she kept her warmth! My real saintly sweetie. And I threw body and soul
into the care of baby and her, and hardly slept.

-Second one?

-I’m working all the fuckin time and she bal-fuckin-LOONS after! Piles of chick magazines about the latest fraud diet. Ton of money for psychiatrist as frosting on the mega-calorie cake.

-You shoulda just quit your job.

-Amen! But brains in short supply at the time. Well, lots of times it takes guts
to quit, no?

-Well you got through it! And according to Action News, your kids haven’t
knocked over any liquor stores.

-Wouldn’t put it past the boy. Anyway, that phase was nerves! On ch-chattering
edge because of starving, then binges, etc. Add the PMS always thick in the air,
and Christ! WORLD WAR THREE FOUGHT IN SUBURBAN BUNGALOW

-How’d you get through it all.

-Met a pretty young thing at 7-11.

-Knew that coffee addiction’d do you in!

-Ended up helping her with the rent, uh...

-Typical middle-aged fool knows he’s losing it sexually and...

-otherwise. Accurate on all counts, but exciting enough while it lasted.

-Blowup?

-Not really. She met a guy her own age. Then I became der Papa whose
approval was sought.

-So you kept paying the rent while she pulled the covers over him.

-We all understood I hadda stop the scholarship after a bit.

-Meanwhile, back at the...?

-Wife settles down into chubby matronhood and joins every fuckin
thing you can imagine. Stop-start halfass affair in there, but details
are so embarassing to her, I promised God to shut up about it.

-He already clamped his hands over his ears!

-Anyway, I always help at the beanbag toss for her charitable picnics , three, four times a year.

-That signal another phase?

-The last. Fuckin reaper swings at the bag in the air. Hangs out elsewhere also.

-I feel like crying.

-Don’t. It’s a poetic justice. It’s all poetic justice. The ones sliding
off to the innocent sides are usually simpletons. Any sensitivity at all,
life’s gigantic screw awaits. And I talk about her embarrassment:
mine’s exponential! Did I mention the booze and drugs and firings
in the mix?

-Glad we had this talk. Where do I not sign? But...may I point out that
a little moral character might’ve...

-Nah! What’s point of that? That’s just the truth. Fuck that!


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