A few days ago, when I was indulging in melancholy, Savage Kitten said she hoped I would get over it soon and be all-right. She was genuinely concerned. I think she has already gotten over it somewhat more than I have, and my slowness is upsetting her.
Women sometimes do recover much faster than men. They are, after all, the stronger sex.
[No, really, they are! It's a biological factor that contributes to the survival of the species. Just look at spiders - the female is stronger, and once the male has pedipalped his sperm into the female's epigyne, he is likely to be killed and eaten. At that point he has already served his biological purpose, and rendered his acquaintance obsolete.
Plus he's NEVER going to get any juicier!]
Well, another factor is that she has already taken several months to think about matters.
While I was just happily tripping along, la la la, not a care in the world......
Kinda hit me like a ton of bricks.
But anyhow.
I assured her that before you know it, I would be back to normal. Trust me. And PLEASE don't worry. If I haven't got my groove back in several months, I'm heading out to Lowell High School carrying a cooler filled with Bubblegum Vodka and several chilled cocktail glasses - "Come here little girl, it tastes just LIKE candy!"
[For those not familiar, Lowell High School is a highly regarded academic high school with a student body comprising a greater percentage of Asian-Americans than any other high school in the city. Given that for me intelligent women who are shorter and smaller than myself are extremely attractive - I am barely over five feet eight inches tall, short by big glandular galoot American standards - and find myself intimidated by the enormous freaks from the law-offices downstairs when a cluster of big cornfed graduates of the 'MidWest Legal College Varsity Football Team And Business Law Breedingfarm' flock into the elevator, you can understand that Lowell High School symbolically functions as ground zero for normal people in my world.
Savage Kitten graduated from Lowell High School. That's a strong recommendation.]
COME HERE LITTLE GIRL, IT TASTES JUST LIKE CANDY!
Probably never gonna do that. For one thing, there are legal issues.
For another, young ladies of taste and discernment should never be exposed to Bubblegum Flavoured Vodka. That's just wrong!
Still. The idea has a certain appealing audacity.
Please imagine a sly-looking middle-aged Europäische type with a cooler, a table stacked with excellent reading material (historical novels, Russian pervs in exile, Dickens, Faulkner, and Jane Austen, further suggestions welcome), plus several comfy folding chairs, on a shaded sidewalk near Lowell high as school lets out. Welcome!
An amusing conceit, no?
Dark sparkly orbs buried deep in a book, pale delicate hands clasping a cocktail glass. A general air of contentment and literary curiosity ("will she EVER kiss mr. Darcy?"). Pretty lips pursed in concern for the future of our heroine, while anticipatorily a finger curves around the corner of the page she hasn't quite finished yet. So involved - it is far too soon to put the book down and head home. Perhaps there's time for one more drink.
Her delicate eyebrows furrow over the fate of Miss Bennet.........
Maybe I should head over to BevMo in a few weeks for some supplies.
I wonder if they also sell comfy folding chairs.
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MAY GET DIZZY, DON'T GET PREGNANT
After picking up my refills I mentally calculated how often I've been to that pharmacy. More times than my years of age. Which is not su...
4 comments:
If I may, I'd suggest starting out with a stack of coloring books of the Classics of Western Literature and scented magic markers...
I'm just sayin'.
I concur! Little girlies just LOOOVE childlike old men with scented magic markers!
Evidently you are still living in some sort of la-la land if you can conceive of "comfy folding chairs".
You know what? You don't owe it to her to "get over it." You owe it to yourself to set aside time and space to grieve something that was really, really important to you. Especially as the change was something she wanted more than you, of COURSE she's "over it" faster - and how can you possbly get over it when she's acting like it's not, actually, over (I refer of course to the ongoing living arrangements).
Anyway, I'll lay off, now. But I think you are letting yourself be bullied by her need not to see you suffer and make her feel guilty.
Well, screw that.
And if you can't suffer with great melodrama, perhaps what you need is a boombox and a place to stand.
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