I can never hear that song without thinking of the of the girl I wasdating before I met my current life's partner. She was this really sweetperson, of whom I can say that I never met anybody who didn't like her.You can't say that about a lot of people. She knew a boatload of sick jokes,and could drink more Long Island iced teas than I, no mean feat. She wasequally comfortable in a sleazy dive bar as she was in a fancy restaurant.
So, what's this great woman doing hanging out with a pig like me, Ihear you saying. And, the truth is, I never knew. Maybe it's because shefelt secure around me. Maybe it's because our sex life was superb. Maybeit's because I always kept her laughing. Whatever, I spent several monthspartying and playing with this wonderful creature.
?Peeve: She dumped me, because I don't really talk well about personalthings, and she thought I was being deliberately mysterious, when in factI just don't have any desire to share my past with anyone. It wasn't verynice, and I'm not inclined to want to push it onto the people I love. Thepresent lady understands that, although sometimes I get the feeling thatshe wishes I'd tell her what makes me such a driven, angry bastard.
Peeve: She called to tell me she was getting married, and for some reason,that disturbed me.
I mean, it's been 3 years since I've seen her, and I'm very comfortablyestablished in what looks to be the last shackup of my life, so what'sbugging me? Hell if I know.
The class thing to do is to wish her well, blow a kiss and say goodbye.The class thing.
Well, fuck that. I hope her new hubby's dick swells up and explodes.I hope he's impotent. I hope he's fucking suicidal. Then, I can tell her,"See, you fucked up. You had the chance to spend your life with a sociopathic,no class fuckin' punk like me, and you blew it."