Concession Stand

7 Jan

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t fancy myself that stupid, typical label of The Other Woman at all, and I have decent self-esteem, but sometimes you get curveballs and knuckleballs thrown at you and you still got to at least swing at them. Like the time we were in his truck and he spotted his wife coming our way through the intersection in the station wagon with the kids and he just pushed my head down underneath the dashboard. It was instinct, I know, and he didn’t mean nothing by it and I didn’t make it more than it already was. But as I lay down there and the two cars passed by one another in opposite directions, his hand lifting slightly off the top of the door in a sign of acknowledgment only two people who’ve been married for fifteen years can understand, all I could think of was: I got to do his laundry soon. His jeans had two coffee stains on the thigh from the McDonald’s cup he’d been sipping from that morning and they needed to be washed. Don’t get me wrong, I know what it’s all about. I’m not being used. It’s just…that’s what I thought of sitting there crouched underneath the dashboard.
Life is a series of long episodes of misery punctuated by bouts of cancer, processed food, and occasional amusing situations like trying to find the perfect spot, twenty-five feet from either door of public buildings, to smoke your Camel Menthols.

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3 Responses to “Concession Stand”

  1. Slyboots 08/01/2008 at 3:17 AM #

    Gotta love the other woman. Especially if she does laundry on the side.

  2. choochoo 08/01/2008 at 3:13 PM #

    Your new place looks good. Love the outlook on life:D

  3. (S)wine 08/01/2008 at 4:29 PM #

    Thanks choochoo.
    Sly…gotta.

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