"I don't want you to think you're some sort of PROJECT".
That's how the conversation began.
"Maybe I do, just a little bit...."
Inside I felt that little thumpity thump.
You know, that feeling you get when you and your "person of persistant interest" are about to have The Big Breakup Talk.
It's really hard to think back to that day two weeks ago without getting that feeling.
I'll always remember her for her abject opposition to smiling. Seriously, that's almost as close as she ever got when it came to actually smiling.
Of course, that's not the girl I first met. I thought she was fun loving, yet demur and maybe just a little bit guarded. Plus, I thought she was a total fox.
I'm not gonna lie to you, for the first time in my life I went all in for the looks.
'Course, you can't really tell from that picture.
When I first met her, I found myself doing things for her attention that I would have never done before.
I was comprimised. My security had been breeched, and I couldn't do a derned thing about it.
All the while, she was beginning her offensive.
I didn't dress well enough.
I didn't know how to watch my language (that one's true, but tell that to Nick Tosches or Earl Weaver and see what happens).
I voted for Nader in 2000. She went off on me for nearly forty five minutes when I told her that one.
She would constantly put me down for growing up in a small town, yet totally discounted the fact that I somehow grew up to be a well read Punk Rock guy.
Do I put on heirs? No, and somehow that made me beneath her. Even though she reads books with phrases like "The NUMBER ONE beach book of the year" printed on the jacket.
She said that stuff, and not one single shred of it is untrue. If I wanted to freak you all out, the list could actually go on for three or four pages.
Why in hades would I put up with that? I can be bitter, surly, pig headed, boorish and nihilistic....Thing is, while I was with her, I was just.........
I had nothing in the tank. I was ready to become a Stepford Husband if it meant I'd be allowed to do naughty things to her. Thing is, she isn't really all that naughty to begin with. Shoulda been another red flag.
I was a one man hung jury and it makes me sick.
"I think we need a break" She said.
"We might need more than that, toots." I said.
My roomate once wrote a song about me. "Professional Againster" was the name, and it fit perfectly.
She reduced me to a meely mouthed, nervous, nail biter who wouldn't challenge her or anyone else for fear of.....Something.
I honestly don't know what I was afraid of.
Not getting laid?
Not bloody likely, Bub.
Haw! She's gone, and alla my pals are comin' outta the woodwork just for the CHANCE to rock out with me.
Not getting married?
To quote my best friend Tim Moreland: "Would you really wanna deal with THAT for forty years? Let's face it, you're not gonna live to see seventy anyway..."
It's funny how things work.
I knew this day would be cataclysmic.......I just thought it would be the BAD kinda cataclysm. Ya know, floods and alla that hokum.
Naw baby NAW.
Life is actually kinda good. I started going to one of those Gym things (a few weeks before the breakup...How prescient am I btw?), The Thomas Jefferson Slave Appartments played on Saturday for the first time in years, The Reds could possibly make the playoffs, and my friends are calling me again.
It's funny. I've got the energy to post on Redszone more, and I think I writing with more zeal than I have in years.
I think ol' Wheels is back, and I missed him. I sure you all did as well.
You've been served, people.
Love me, hate the Cardinals.
I'm gonna leave you guys with a project. Find some New Bomb Turks songs on the internet. Look for the song "Veronica Lake". Listen to the words, and that's where I am. It's off their 1997 record entitled "At Rope's End".
"The bent angels broke my neck, and eventually my mind. My time is short, why do I spend so much time searching for Veronica Lake."