Reunited and it feels so good (NOT)
It’s that time of year again, the run up to Saint Valentines day when traditionally my ex wife will bombard me with phone calls and the inevitable “I was just passing so I thought I would call in” visit.
She lives thirty miles away from me so she would hardly be just passing; it works for her, however it doesn’t work for me. So I usually make myself scarce around this time. I get into the office earlier and leave later than usual so that there is less chance of me having to suffer her completely foundless reliving of the happy times we spent together and her endless whinging about how it all went wrong.
It went wrong dear because you couldn’t keep out of clubs and slot machine emporiums, nor could you keep your hands of various crossbow wielding, baseball bat toating lunatics. That last statement was a little dramatic but none the less true. Her choice in men friends came back to haunt her when one of them (The baseball bat toater) took exception to her leaving him for a chap with a more refined taste in fashion accessories than he had. He displayed his anger by beating her with the bat and as a result she spent some time in hospital. He spent some time in gaol and whilst he was there she took the opportunity to move to where she lives now……thirty miles away from me.
When it was obvious she had gone for good, I gutted the house, which had been furnished to her taste, brown chintzy furniture, flowery curtains and millions of ornaments. I threw the lot out redecorated and in went the chrome and subtle colours, minimalistic you might say with just a dash of dirty old man.
I have lighting for every conceivable situation and a TV the size of a garden shed. I like the way I live now, I answer to no one, I do as I please when I please, and its quiet. Well-meaning friends sometimes ask me if I get lonely and the answer is always a resounding no.
So the few weeks before Valentines day are a busy time for me, dodging the ex wife is no easy task, she seems convinced that a reunion is on the cards. Nothing could be further from the truth but no matter how direct I am about that with her she just ignores what she doesn’t want to hear, and every year buys me an anniversary card (We were married on the 14th). Its sad and I am truly sorry that it won’t work out the way she wants it to, but I’m just a kid and there is so much I haven’t done yet like….erm, there must be something I haven’t done!
She lives thirty miles away from me so she would hardly be just passing; it works for her, however it doesn’t work for me. So I usually make myself scarce around this time. I get into the office earlier and leave later than usual so that there is less chance of me having to suffer her completely foundless reliving of the happy times we spent together and her endless whinging about how it all went wrong.
It went wrong dear because you couldn’t keep out of clubs and slot machine emporiums, nor could you keep your hands of various crossbow wielding, baseball bat toating lunatics. That last statement was a little dramatic but none the less true. Her choice in men friends came back to haunt her when one of them (The baseball bat toater) took exception to her leaving him for a chap with a more refined taste in fashion accessories than he had. He displayed his anger by beating her with the bat and as a result she spent some time in hospital. He spent some time in gaol and whilst he was there she took the opportunity to move to where she lives now……thirty miles away from me.
When it was obvious she had gone for good, I gutted the house, which had been furnished to her taste, brown chintzy furniture, flowery curtains and millions of ornaments. I threw the lot out redecorated and in went the chrome and subtle colours, minimalistic you might say with just a dash of dirty old man.
I have lighting for every conceivable situation and a TV the size of a garden shed. I like the way I live now, I answer to no one, I do as I please when I please, and its quiet. Well-meaning friends sometimes ask me if I get lonely and the answer is always a resounding no.
So the few weeks before Valentines day are a busy time for me, dodging the ex wife is no easy task, she seems convinced that a reunion is on the cards. Nothing could be further from the truth but no matter how direct I am about that with her she just ignores what she doesn’t want to hear, and every year buys me an anniversary card (We were married on the 14th). Its sad and I am truly sorry that it won’t work out the way she wants it to, but I’m just a kid and there is so much I haven’t done yet like….erm, there must be something I haven’t done!
5 Comments:
I like the sound of your minimalist house.
Have you any faults by any chance??
My faults are legion Kaz.
You dont like Chintzy furniture nor floral curtains?....Says he with the Herringbone suit.
Your home sounds much better now. Floral anything is just wrong.
Anne: As you know the herringbone suit was not of my choosing, a nightmare I don't think about too often.
Kaybee: I once borrowed a floral jacket in hippie times, but it wasn't me really, I looked like I had been paintballing.
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