Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. I’ve taken a few liberties…okay, I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the story but it is still based on actual events.
It was a sultry night with not a cloud in the sky or a breeze in the air to bring a reprieve from the oppressive heat. Merlee Odell flew out of her house letting the screen door slam closed behind her. She’d had enough. Three years of waiting for that moron to come to his senses. Three years of patience, mollycoddling, determination and for what? Nothing, nada, zilch.
Dressed in her favorite Nick and Nora sock monkey night-shirt and not a stitch more, she stormed to her car with the manila envelope clasped in her hand slicing the air at her side. Yanking open the door of her 1981 powder blue Oldsmobile Cutlass she starts mumbling under her breath the beginnings of a six mile tantrum, “That stupid, no good son-of-a bitch. I can’t beLIEVE he’s such a piece of shit. He knew I was at my fuckin’ wits end and he tells me WHAT?!?! He loves me but he doesn’t love me? What kind of stupid, idiotic, stupid, stupid shit is that?”
Throwing the car in reverse she pulled out of the drive with such force the side of her home was pelted with pebbles and dirt. “Great, now the son-of-a-bitch is making me hose off the house because it wouldn’t be muddy if he wasn’t such a complete and total ass!”
After almost coming to a complete stop at three stop signs and not quite running two red lights, she finally arrived at her destination. Hurling open the driver’s side door at the same time she threw the car in park she marched to the front door and proceeded to ring the doorbell emitting a continuous stream of dings and dongs into the quiet evening air.
The door flew open and before the lying, placating, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings” bullshit starts spewing forth like a stream of projectile vomit she slammed the envelope into his chest and says “I’ve held on to these papers way too long waitin’ for your indecisive ass to make up your mind. I made it up for you. Sign these and notarize these then file ‘em with the court. You want a divorce? You got it, you slack-ass piece of shit!”
Turning on her heel she stomped back to her car and spun out of his drive in reverse as if the fires of hell are racing towards her. Squealing into drive she leaves enough rubber on the road to glove the entire staff of the local hospital.
It was a sultry night with not a cloud in the sky or a breeze in the air to bring a reprieve from the oppressive heat. Merlee Odell flew out of her house letting the screen door slam closed behind her. She’d had enough. Three years of waiting for that moron to come to his senses. Three years of patience, mollycoddling, determination and for what? Nothing, nada, zilch.
Dressed in her favorite Nick and Nora sock monkey night-shirt and not a stitch more, she stormed to her car with the manila envelope clasped in her hand slicing the air at her side. Yanking open the door of her 1981 powder blue Oldsmobile Cutlass she starts mumbling under her breath the beginnings of a six mile tantrum, “That stupid, no good son-of-a bitch. I can’t beLIEVE he’s such a piece of shit. He knew I was at my fuckin’ wits end and he tells me WHAT?!?! He loves me but he doesn’t love me? What kind of stupid, idiotic, stupid, stupid shit is that?”
Throwing the car in reverse she pulled out of the drive with such force the side of her home was pelted with pebbles and dirt. “Great, now the son-of-a-bitch is making me hose off the house because it wouldn’t be muddy if he wasn’t such a complete and total ass!”
After almost coming to a complete stop at three stop signs and not quite running two red lights, she finally arrived at her destination. Hurling open the driver’s side door at the same time she threw the car in park she marched to the front door and proceeded to ring the doorbell emitting a continuous stream of dings and dongs into the quiet evening air.
The door flew open and before the lying, placating, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings” bullshit starts spewing forth like a stream of projectile vomit she slammed the envelope into his chest and says “I’ve held on to these papers way too long waitin’ for your indecisive ass to make up your mind. I made it up for you. Sign these and notarize these then file ‘em with the court. You want a divorce? You got it, you slack-ass piece of shit!”
Turning on her heel she stomped back to her car and spun out of his drive in reverse as if the fires of hell are racing towards her. Squealing into drive she leaves enough rubber on the road to glove the entire staff of the local hospital.
Suddenly, two hundred yards down the street she realized she’s having difficulty seeing. “SHIT! I can’t believe that fucker is making me cry! AGAIN! Shit I can’t see……FUCK!” Blindly reaching for the console she doggedly searched for a tissue, a used napkin, something to wipe her eyes with. “CRAP!” Not wanting to lift her night-shirt to wipe away her angry tears letting the entire neighborhood see she is no longer the perking young woman she once was, she thankfully came to a halt at the red light four blocks down the bastard’s street. Leaning over to pop open the glove compartment she pleaded under her breath for anything…..anything to wipe her eyes. Buried amongst the maps, receipts, screwdriver, tire pressure gauge, and Midol she found what she had been praying for. She quickly removed the plastic wrap and blotted her tear-filled eyes. “Holy shit, these pads are REALLY absorbent! And look, it removed all of my mascara without smudging!”
Picking up her phone she hit *8 impatiently waiting for the ringing call to be answered. “Marnie, I just dropped of the divorce papers to that bastard and I’m drivin’ along and I’m cryin’ and I got nothin’ to wipe my eyes with and I know I’m gonna die because I can’t see the road in front of me and you know what? I found a maxi pad to wipe my eyes and it really works and I’m thinkin’ I have SO got to call Marn because this is such a chick flick moment.”
“You okay?” Marnie asked
“I will be after I finish that bottle of Moscato Allegro” Merlee Odell replied.
“What kind is it?” Marnie curiously inquired.
“I already told you.” Merlee Odell muttered into the phone “It’s that real sweet stuff you know I like.”
“No, Merlee, what kind of maxi pad was it?”
“Oh! Well now, I guess that would be Always if my memory serves right.”
Marnie relied with a snicker, “You may wanna switch to Stayfree”.
This story is dedicated to Weiner; she knows how much I love her!
Picking up her phone she hit *8 impatiently waiting for the ringing call to be answered. “Marnie, I just dropped of the divorce papers to that bastard and I’m drivin’ along and I’m cryin’ and I got nothin’ to wipe my eyes with and I know I’m gonna die because I can’t see the road in front of me and you know what? I found a maxi pad to wipe my eyes and it really works and I’m thinkin’ I have SO got to call Marn because this is such a chick flick moment.”
“You okay?” Marnie asked
“I will be after I finish that bottle of Moscato Allegro” Merlee Odell replied.
“What kind is it?” Marnie curiously inquired.
“I already told you.” Merlee Odell muttered into the phone “It’s that real sweet stuff you know I like.”
“No, Merlee, what kind of maxi pad was it?”
“Oh! Well now, I guess that would be Always if my memory serves right.”
Marnie relied with a snicker, “You may wanna switch to Stayfree”.
This story is dedicated to Weiner; she knows how much I love her!
9 comments:
Ah, but Always has Wings!
As an artist, I have found that maxi's are very good at blotting paint from the painting when doing a glaze. SWMBO never wears mascara, otherwise I would pass this very useful eyecare tip along to her.
Wow. I learned so many things I never knew about Maxi pads from reading this post. You can use them as tissue, art tools...who knew?
Great story thanks.
OMG! That was great!!! And whooo hooo to Merlee Odell!
Ha ha!!
You should try selling this story to Always.
Happy ending!
I love how you write - and if I was around I'd totally buy you and your friend a few rounds. My old roommate used to call men Dirt Dog Monkey Trash. That sounds about right.
Love it!!!!
Stay tuned for future episodes of how Merlee's Life Turns....
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