Elevator! Elevator! We got the shaft! The cheerleaders are doing a bang up job tonight. My prom date is co-captain. Her blond hair bobs into the air as she drops down to do a split. Her bouncing skirt revealing for a split second something that I would never get. My life is like that. You can’t always get what you want. I couldn’t get what I really needed.
She liked to drink. She was a laugher. I liked her hair. We talked for hours. I walked her home. She was staying at the shelter for abused women. We kissed.
I thought I would grow up to be a secret agent. Women with incredible bodies would want me inside of them. I would kill bad spies often with a hail of enemy bullets coming right at me. With one shot of my shiny black revolver I would kill them. My love-making would be legendary. My gambling winnings in the millions. One night sleeping with a woman whose name was Pussy Galore. I thought I would be Bond, James Bond. Killer, Lover, Good shot. This never came about. We always have our dreams.
When you get totally angry at someone and in return they get furious with you, yet neither of you go anywhere, that is called being in a relationship. This behavior can occur over and over again, causing high blood pressure, stress, and hemorrhoid flare up.
Why does this childish phenomena occur? Is it just poor communication? A need to be the one who is right? Or just the fact that we somehow need to hurt the one we love. I don’t know but I need to figure this out.
All you need is love. Love is all you need.
For the last seven years, my partner in bed has been my dog, Louie. I put up with his horrendous breath, and he puts up with my snoring. He sleeps with his rear end pushed against mine, and we both emit loudly upon awakening, which warms us on cold mornings. My girlfriend won’t sleep in the same room with me. My dog is there every night. If I pet him a couple times, he will lick himself for nearly an hour. I have to smack him and tell him to stop it…but, I have unconditional love for Louie. I like my girlfriend too.
Santa is coming. I hope he brings me a new car for Christmas. The check engine light has been on in my car for a few years. It is German-made, too complicated to fix, or maybe I’m projecting. My dog, Louie the fourteenth, is my main passenger, which is why my swanky dash is covered with dog hair. We travel country roads every day and when he sees a cow, he barks and licks his lips. When we get to the park he jumps from back seat to front seat eager to get out and walk and have a dooky. If someone is watching I just keep pulling him forward while he is going because I’m not picking it up. What’s one dog turd going to hurt when there is duck poop everywhere? The sun is out, the sky is blue, we are on our walk, it’s a good day.
The cycle of life and death continues all around me. The leaves fall and cover the grass that my father worked so hard for decades to maintain. Everybody who lives in this old house has to deal with the leaves falling down. It’s tempting to leave them there, but then the grass will die, and by March, the yard will be a brown muddy mess.
Although I don’t like the fall and winter, this year I am looking forward to sharing Thanksgiving with my roommate. We will see how many vegetarian dishes go well with gravy.