There’s this girl, right. Met her in January this year. I thought perhaps that I was ready for that thing called dating. So after filtering through the characters I decided to intruduce myself to one of ’em. One that appeared to be smart, and definitely made me laugh. She kept up with my sarcastic lobs. Anyway, Goddammit if Cupid didn’t take aim at my ass. Again.
The first time we met, we stayed up all night talking. She explained why they call the quarterback the quarterback, I spoke of gross profit margins. It was refreshing. It’s been years since I’ve been on a date with a girl. The next time we met, she said she loved me. No, don’t adjust your glasses. She actually said that. It freaked me out. What? You WHAT me? Love? A term I KNOW is so often strewn about with no significant feeling behind it. A term I reserve for oh so few. But there it was, layed out in front of me like a blast of cold water to the face. I shoulda split then. Run off screaming and not looked back. But look back I did. Entered into that maelstrom of lust…

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You know, I’m an ass. This isn’t a new revelation, just one that saddens me on this day. I’m a selfish, self-centered, egotistical, hedonistic ass. I’ve a million things to do…Laundry, cleaning the car, sending emails to those who’ve taken the time to email me, cricket fetching for the spider, dishes, general cleaning-out of miscellaneous papers and such, work commitees to conform to, teeth to brush, two suitcases in the living room to unpack, snail mail to respond to, and, of course, Hilly-yard to figure out. We had the day semi-planned. Me. Her. Together. But I guess she grew tired of laying on the sofa listening to me recite my day’s agenda…laundry, to start. She left. Off to the beach. Not to be held back by the immobility of my stacked mini-washer/dryer. Farewell, I says.
But I should have stopped her, no? Should have done the “upright and noble” thing and succumbed to her pleas. But, as I said before, I’m an ass. I just can’t get this giving thing that must occur in symbiotic relationships. I see people daily that impress the living shit outta me with their benevolance. Yet still, I’m an ass. My friend, (the Rachael Ray lover) makes me shake my head in amazement every single day that I know her. She is a walking icon of all that is right with this screwed-up planet. But still, I can’t get outside my miserable self long enough to act as if I’m worthy of her friendship. I’ll do what I do. Protect her from any perceived threats, foreign and local. Offer up my insufficient lame-ass services when she needs them. But, Geezuz, It’s getting so damn tiring to witness the piss that Gee O Dee spews upon the folks who deserve it least. Screw him. I’m an ass, yes. But so is he.