Friday, April 4, 2008

My Lovely Love, Pt 1 of... many

Back in the day, I was an unrepentant bachelor.

I was living the good life, hardly any cash to my name, but I could always scrape up a few bucks to go out carousing with the guys. I didn't have much stuff, but folks were always tossing out perfectly good couches, tables, and whatnot. Life was good.

It was in those days that I started to notice a disturbing trend.

The group of guys that I hung out with could usually be found at the local bar, shooting pool, hanging out, and trying to stay out of too much trouble. Ok, shooting pool and hanging out, at least. It would seem like all of a sudden, one of the guys suddenly couldn't make it out nearly as often as before. He would show up and have even less money than normal. He would inevitably break the news to us...

Women... sheesh.

Cue the memories of my childhood, when, stopping by his place and knocking on his door, I was greeted by... the woman.

"Can Johnny come out and play?"

"No!" *slam*

...and another one gone
and another one gone
another one bites the dust!

I would return to the bar, makes a few toasts to yet another fallen comrade, and have visions of myself, waving the flag of bachelorhood atop the growing pile of my fallen bachelor bretheren. We would all swear up and down that it would never happen to us.

Naturally, about then was when I met a certain young Lovely.

I'll glaze over some of the introductory details right now, but a few things became very apparent, like that I must have been a Pope or something in a past life, and a good one, at that.

I remember coming back to the apartment one afternoon after screwing the pooch on some final exam or the other. It was probably my Intro to Pre-Business Math Basics 101 for Hopeless Dummies: The Study of Addition. Take two. I entered into my apartment moaning and groaning about everything except (of course), my lack of study time.

mumblegrumblemubmle... "Stupid Math classes" mumblegrumblemumble... "Stupid caca-laters" grumblemumblegrumble... "Stupid Sun shining"...

I slammed the door shut, kicked off my shoes, and prepared to sulk. Tossing myself onto the couch, I contemplated the disaster this grade would wreak on my already notable (and not in the good way) GPA. Staring off into space, my gaze was more or less strait at the ceiling fan... which was suspiciously clean. No dust, burnt out lightbulbs, or 'Scooter', my resident spider.


Utilizing my super keen powers of observation, I noted that the carpet was unusually clean and there appeared to be something baking in the oven.

Holy shit, I have an oven?

Starting to think that I had wandered into the wrong apartment or something, I looked towards the back of the livingroom / dining room / computer room, only to see Lovely, hair done up in a pony-tail, gloved up, with a cleaning brush in one hand, and a smile just for li'l ole me. Seems she figgured that she'd come over, toss a delicious meal in the oven, tidy up a bit, and wait for me to celebrate and / or commiserate the end of finals.

I haven't ever figgured out what kind of monstrous deeds she might have done to be making it up with the likes of me, but if I do, I'll let y'all know. Expect more posts to come about my Lovely Love.


Larry said...

I, too, have been fortunate enough to find one that can put up with me.

Old NFO said...

Congrats!!!! Finally somebody has some good luck!

Anonymous said...

I did pretty well myself, ain't it grand!

Chris in SE TX said...

Is this recent (current) Lovely?


If not, sorry to hear it didn't work out!

Well, this should cover all bases. We had a secretary, er.., Administrative Professional (??!) who was single and pregnant. Everyone knew it by the time she finally made an official announcement to our boss, Kenny. Kenny looked at her with no emotion on his face and coolly asked: "How do you feel about that?" She said "Oh, I'm happy!" He beamed a warm smile and replied "Well, CONGRATULATIONS!"

So, in that spirit, I hope I've covered my bases too. I just hope your Lovely isn't AD's Babs RN.... Man, that could get ugly.... You know, the worst part would be, after he beats you unconscious, he would then be obligated to revive you. Then, he could beat you some more... .... this could take a very long time..... :)

I mean, of course we all know you're a Marine, but, then again, he is a CoonAss....

Murphy said...

Yeah, I kind of figure that there's no point in playing the lottery; obviously, my life's supply of good luck is used up.

"Coon Ass". Hold on... did I do the Coon Ass post here, yet?