Thursday, June 04, 2015
Acrid Pair
“You can have your tramps, just
don't bring them home here!”
A low blow, decidedly, so Budge
mentioned what he called her
‘Great Punctured Romance!’
It hadn't been much then, but the
crying most bitter now.
Anyway, she ordered him out, and
told him with scarlet-faced scorn
to get his clothes later.
Clothes. When he lived by himself,
they were seldom clean.
"You always look so nice!" praised Letty,
tending bar at Mert and Mickey's.
"And smell the same!" Mickey added.
He had left Mert for a young professor
at Yale. She stayed away thereafter.
"Out of the closet and into Education!"
this aggrieved one, now sobbing at the bar,
had laughed once.
“As much as I can handle!” Mickey remarked,
pouring himself a Becks, so Letty must have
said something.
Anyway, they convinced Budge to go back to
his sister.
"We just had to clear the air!" he insisted on
his return, but then fell back on groveling.
She had the brownies ready, still warm.
Labels: breakup, brother, living arrangement, siblings, sister
Monday, June 01, 2015
How Arrangements Arrange
Going Condo
My studio apartment is unique in having a nice kitchen.
Tillie McGregor often moaned to me that she couldn’t
make a decent cup of tea, for one. Never mind the
“biscuits,” or cookies.
The lingering odor of the latter when I return proves
worth the minor inconvenience.
Well, really, none of that. As she now uses my kitchen just
after I leave for work. Our two studios have a common door,
which has never been locked, we discover. No, no need to
go through the hallway for her.
Unlike Laurel, we call her Laurie of Wales, who begged
to get hands one my small upright piano, left by a previous
tenant, drunk, and untouched by me. Except for my once in
a blue moon dusting. She would ordinarily go through the
hallway, but Tillie grants permission to enter her apartment first.
She practices while Tillie bakes.
Of course, she must perform, and so the women hold a sort of
recital-feast for me weekly. No bachelor ever happier!
In the foreign exchange section of the bank where both work,
they have chosen to start at noon. Strangely to a non-banker,
but I guess there’s reasonable activity in that period.
When the reasonable activity at my apartment changed a trifle,
I couldn’t put my finger on. Or with whom first. And then...
bit later...cold evenings, three of us buzzed...
Somewhere in there the place went condo, and we bought
our units.
Which we didn’t spare the expense modeling into one.
I treated to the king bed, state of the art.
I know, I know: women will fight in such an arrangement.
Never a cross word, but plenty of hearty Scotch food topped
off with smoky whisky, and lusty hymns from the mines
and moors!
Thunder might issue from pulpits, so these we avoid.
Don’t miss ‘em one damn bit!
Labels: condo, living arrangement, menage de triois, relationships
