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Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Mighty Mighty Long Time

Sandra dumped me for pretty straightforward reasons, albeit in a roundabout way.

She was kind of a spoiled brat. She grew up rich, she dressed better than me, she was very pretty, and she was a bitch. She wanted things that I just couldn't afford to buy her, and when she dumped me to go out with Richie Hollandaise, the gooniest rich kid in town, it became pretty clear what her priorities were--and they weren't a man who is poor in money but rich in giant penis.

I ran into her a few weeks ago on the way to a restaurant with Joey Honey. We were walking past the Olive Garden toward a much more expensive restaurant when I saw her out of the corner of my eye, looking older, heavier, and rattier than I remembered her. She sat alone looking worried at a table on the patio, which was recently added in a failed attempt to class up the place.

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

"Zane? ZANE! Is that you?"

I tried to turn away, but she had already seen me.

"Is it you? I can't believe this? How weird! It's been such a long time!"

"Mighty long time♪," I agreed. Boy did she look haggard.

"I mean, I didn't think you'd show up! I've been waiting for an hour, and I thought I'd be eating breadsticks and salad alone!"

"What?"

"You're here to meet me, right? Sandra, from the online dating site?"

"Actually, we're just on the way to eat . . . somewhere else. It's just fortuitous is all."

"You're right, it is lucky," she winked. "Would you like to sit down?"

"We can't, really," I said.

Her face fell, and her lower lip quivered. Honey averted his eyes and toed the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Well call me sometime real soon!" she said, standing up.

"Yeah . . . I'll do that."

I moved to walk away, and she approached me with her arms open for a hug. As she leaned in, I grimaced. She smelled like a cat had thrown up on her, and she had then tried to overpower the accident with a bucket of lavender. I wretched a little and gently but firmly pushed her away. Then I turned around and continued to the restaurant. Hopefully they would have a washroom attendant to scrub this smell off me.

"That wasn't--" Honey began.

"Yes."

"That bitch," he said. "Why didn't you say anything? After the way she dumped you?"

I opened my mouth but I didn't really have an answer. I thought about it. Why hadn't I said anything? Then I realized--what would be the point? It'd be like kicking a one-legged dog who bit you when it was a puppy. Or punching out the bully who later turned into a quadrapelegic after breaking his back in a boogie-boarding accident.

"I guess sometimes people get what they deserve on their own. You know what they say--'Living well is the best revenge.' "

By the time we got to the restaurant, I was starving.

"What can I get for you sir?" the waiter asked.

Honey answered for me. "Get him the biggest, most expensive steak you have. Medium rare."

I nodded. "Sounds good."

5 Comments:

Blogger Ben said...

Cooold blooded!

11:00 PM  
Anonymous proudmary said...

It'd be like kicking a one-legged dog who bit you when it was a puppy.

- that's beautiful. well said!

4:26 PM  
Blogger Cibbuano said...

zane, damn good work on this baby... this is an awesome track, and you should send yourself a valentine's day card - in august! - for being such a stand-up guy.

8:01 PM  
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