Saturday, August 25, 2007

The Better Part Of A Year

I once knew a absolutely beautiful woman in her thirties that got engaged to a real asshole (objective reality, friends -- I only report the news; I don't make it) who had been playing her off another woman. He'd take my friend out to dinner and pretend to respect her too much to sleep with her, then sneak over to another of my friend's houses (who was in her mid-twenties) around midnight and have sex with her before making his classy four am exit. This went on for the better part of a year and like most of these deals, the real mystery was what two lovely women saw in the guy who appeared on his best days to be a seething pool of recessive genes. Add to this the fact that he was younger than both women. And both were hopelessly in love with the twerp.

The heart of our alliances is a complicated matter in the best of times. The women in this triangle knew each other, but didn't know how much they had in common. They couldn't stand one another (Both being diplomats, they called each other "that stuck up snotty ass bitch" and "that trashy big boobed tramp") and often could be found shooting each other death glares at parties. When my one friend won the prize of marriage with this gem, she went around showing off her ring in the way that women have done for years, the hand out, squeal of delight bullshit that so grates on the nerves. "It's beautiful," I said, because it was when it came my turn. She took me aside. "I keep having nightmares that he's going to leave me for a younger woman," she said. "Anyone can be beautiful at eighteen, but I'm still pretty now. That's what I keep telling him in my dreams." Of course, I knew her dreams were the least of her problems. And I had been eighteen and not pretty at all. My friend had been lovely her whole life, the kind of beauty that a person longs for. But I smiled and said I thought everything would be fine and she looked at her ring, that symbol for so much and polished it against her dress so it could gleam even brighter for the next person who would see it.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I don't like movies that are trying to preach and trying to tell you how to feel." Don Cheadle

Cocktail Hour
Drinking movie suggestion: Ain't It Wonderful Sam Cooke

Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Friday!


the walking man said...

But Michelle you have to finish the story. Did he keep his older young chick on the side or did he just pawn the ring that was what gave the other such a sense of worth and run off into the night, after maxing out her credit cards and emptying her bank account?

I don't like anything that tries to preach and tell me how to feel. But Both are great faults of mine.

Peace Always


the walking man said...

PS Marks Music Suggestion for a moment "Everybody Wants to Be a Cowboy" Ziggy Marley

Cheri said...

I agree with Mark! What happened?!?!?

I bet he found yet another younger woman...

Patton said...

Tanks a lot. Freud was one of the good Nazis.

Jeff Fager said...

Jerry Spence and I will kick all of their snot nosed asses!

Charles Gramlich said...

Sounds a little like "bad boy syndrome"

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