Monday, September 18, 2017
Stay Misty For Me
--or the odds matter
Misty a bright acquisition!
Judge was optimistic about her
sticking.
He gave it 70-30.
But after the first week, and her
pouting after he couldn't obtain
tickets for Slammo & Chutzy...?
50-50.
After all, wasn't real anger, but
severely funked disappointment.
Even odds held another week.
Then she announced she was moving
to Freeport, and, thank you, needed
no help in doing it.
“Let's stay in touch!” brightened he
anyway.
“I'll be awful awful busy!”
So, not a chance. Plus, she put on her
determined face. Which, pretty as she
was, could still horrify children and
small dogs.
Well...plenty other games in town!
He was a realist in realizing the breakup
was partially his fault.
15-85.
But, really, what a Foursquare Bitch!
He had actually lucked out!
His new date, Larsy, asked him repeatedly,
"What did you say?"
She out-vagued the field.
Odds would take some thought in her case.
For their next good time, she showed up at Early
and Marcom, instead of Four Corners!
How long before she’d forget his very existence?
Anyway, he finally decided on 100-1 they’d
ever arrive anywhere.
About right. She finally left with a high junkie
as woefully scattered.
Our hero, yes, cried.
Isn’t it the accumulation of things that leads
us there?
10-1 we’ll all do it at some murky stage.
Or acute.
Will of the Almighty? I heard God and the
Angels washed their hands of relationships
worldwide.
Satan, though, keeps his oar in.
Propelling his Rowboat of Fools!
Labels: date, dating, fools, friendship, God, odds, rejection, relationship, Satan
