Divorced Dating and Damn Drama (12 page)

"Why do you always stick up for her Ruby, I know Sara messed with them." I say accusingly to Sara.

"And what possible motive would I have?" says Sara calmly. She positions Ruby's head and begins cutting again.

"You not only had motive but also means and opportunity." I say as the cold stillness reached the air. We glare at each other. I'm not backing down; I will tear this apartment to shreds to find my lemons. I am mad with cabin fever. "You took them, I know you did. You never liked that I had lemons, you were always jealous of me for that reason." I scream.

"I was jealous of you because you had lemons?" Sara laughs.

"Ah Ha, you admit it!" I point my finger at her.

"You do realize you are going crazy over lemons right? Someone writes 'die' on your car and you stay perfectly calm, however the moment your lemons go missing you go bat shit crazy." Sara says without raising her voice, keeping her attention on Ruby's head. How can she be so calm? It's like she doesn't even care how I feel.

"That's because I know you took them." I assume
, then there was a bright flash and the lights go out. I stay frozen in shock, unable to move. I see figures moving around.
A scuffle ensues; at least I think it's a scuffle. I hear someone cry out in pain, and then a figure grabs me from behind. Panicked I shoot my elbow back and jab them in the ribs.

"Awe!" Shouts Ruby, "what's your problem?"
Just then
Sara comes over with several emergency lamps and sets them up throughout the kitchen and living room. I look at her amazed.

"The lights go out a lot, plus it's safer than candles." She jokes.

"Where are my damn lemons?" I shout. This doesn't change anything. Just because the lights go off doesn't mean that my lemons aren't still missing.

"I put them in the drawer, damn take a chill pill." She says shoving past me and showing me the lemons. I admit I may have overreacted on that one. I think that I try so hard to stay composed with everything that is going on, that sometimes I snap over stupid things, like lemons. I don't know, it's just getting to me I guess. All this bad luck, I wonder if I have been cursed or something. I hate bringing up the past but in my madness I do wonder if Isabel put that rat in my car to warn me. Maybe to say stay away or else.

Yeah, no. It's just, no. You can't live with me. It's not complicated. No, I'm not hiding anything I just do not want you to live with me. I have a ton of cats and two roommates who want me dead. Really! One is on drugs and the other talks to herself (all true.) I already can't relax when I get home I don't need you humping my leg. Yeah, I'm pretty sure my landlord won't accept your portraits as payment. Well, because they suck. I know you watched a YouTube tutorial last year, but that doesn't mean you don't suck at painting. Besides, he wants cold hard cash so he too can eat.

"You are stereo typing me!" Cries Randy. A 6 foot tall guy with, I do believe, attachment issues. But I'm not here to analyze him. And apparently, according to him, I am stereotyping him. The dentist shoves a sucker in his mouth and he loses his large lips over the device.

"I'm just saying you are rude, that's not stereotyping." I say. What? It's not. He is rude; he asked if he poked my stomach would I laugh like the Pillsbury dough boy. That is a mean thing to say. The dentist takes the sucker out of his mouth and goes for one of those Medieval torture devices that looks like sharp picks. You know, the ones that dentists like to lay out on the tray in front of the patients so you have an elevated level of anxiety and thank your lucky stars when you finally get to exit the chair.

"You know I'm a redneck so you are stereotyping me." Yeah, I never got the impression he was a redneck. An idiot, yes, but not a redneck. The dentist goes to work picking away at Randy's teeth.

"I didn't know you were a self proclaimed redneck until this very moment." I answered honestly.

"You are racist!" He accuses, chocking on his own spit. Wow, really? Does anyone else notice that we are the same race? Also, I made no mention of his race at all, ever. The dentist now gets the floss and starts flossing Randy's teeth.

"Because you are rude, that makes me racist?" I ask on the defensive crossing my arms.

"You don't understand me." He cries, blood dripping down his lip. His gums must have been inflamed.

"I never said I did." I say coldly. Why would I claim to understand him? He is insane. Side note: he is the same race as me, but I didn't want to get into it because he seemed to identify with a different
race.
And I'm not going to open that door, especially not at a respectable business such as the Gossip Dentistry. What? He asked me to go to the dentist with him. It's called multitasking. What? No, I would never ask a man to have a date with me while I am getting my teeth cleaned. That would be awkward. I would never ask someone I just met to accompany me to the dentist or the doctor for that matter. But if he wanted to who am I to say no?

"Hi Ruby" I say putting on my earrings," Can I help you with something?" I ask. I'm in my room getting ready for my date and Ruby entered just moments ago. Now she is just staring me. "Well, I'm off for another wonderful date with a stranger I met online." I say to Ruby, trying to sound funny. However she is not in the mood, she sticks her leg out and I trip over it falling with a THUD. I quickly get up and continue on, pretending it didn't bother me, but it did.

I arrive at the Gossip coffee shop wearing a sweet innocent pink dress. I am wearing my new sparkly white flats. Well, not new, but new to me. I found them on the side of the road along with some other neat stuff. I now have a rubber duck shower curtain that I use to line my trunk. I sit down in a nicely painted green chair outside this fine establishment. Mario Garcia, 46, works in a warehouse, arrives for our date in a black slick convertible with his toupee blowing in the breeze. Oh, it's a toupee. What? I had though he had decided to die the top of his head a darker color.

"Hey Marissa!" Mario shouts. Then he proceeds to wave the whole toupee. Maybe it's new and he is trying to call my attention to it. He brutally hugs me. It wasn't just that I didn't wanted to hug him, it's just I hadn't decided whether or not I had wanted to hug him.

"Hi Mario." I say after he releases me from his crushing embrace

"I'm so glad you decided to meet me." He beamed. I just smiled awkwardly at him, he is still touching me. We are no longer hugging but he is still touching me. His arms are still touching the corners of my waist. Hmm, this is weird. Time to put on my bullshitting hat and pretend like this is not awful.

"I'm glad you decided to meet me too." I lie. We walk inside and get in line. While waiting in line he starts with his arm around my waist. Not something I particularly like but a relationship is a give and take situation. However his hand slowly finds its way to my flabby bottom. I grab his hand and remove it. He then places his arm around my shoulder. We are almost to the front of the line when yet again his hand wanders, this time finding itself wrapped around my left breast. I push ahead to order only to find my disgruntled roommate Ruby behind the counter.

"I didn't know you worked here." I said while placing my order. Ruby had her scraggly hair falling free on her shoulders. Her nose ring was still prominently displayed and she gave me the same dead eyes she always gives me.

"I have to work somewhere." Ruby says grabbing my credit card.

"Well I wish you had told me. We could have carpooled or something." I say trying to sound cheerful.

"You didn't ask." Ruby said. "Your card had been rejected." Ruby informs me blandly. Really? My card is rejected for a 2 dollar hot tea?

I lean in "Can you spot me?" I ask Ruby desperately.

"No.'' she says with dead fish eyes.

"Ok, I'll just have a water then." I say a little upset, but let's be totally honest, it really was not right of me to expect her to loan me money. I hate when people ask me for money so I really need to be more aware of my actions.

"Bottled or cupped?" She asked. I looked up at the prices. Bottled water was 3.99 but a cup of water was 10 cents. That's a big difference. Is there really such a demand for bottled water?

"Cupped." I say meekly
. I
feel everyone's eyes locked on me. I don't have money and they all know it, they want to see if I will crumble.

"That will be ten cents." I struggle looking around my purse for the money. I manage to find a nickel, five pennies and a button. I hand them to her. I shamelessly ask her for the button back. What? It's my button. I guess I could have given it to her as a tip. But frankly, the service wasn't that great.

Oh, how was the date? Well he wanted to get in my pants and after I informed him I couldn't ride him on the counter he proceeded to hit on Ruby, who gave him Sara's number.

The town of Gossip is divided. Have you ever heard of the saying "the other side of the tracks?" Well this is evident here. I grew up by the tracks, always looking over at the richer houses. I grew up poor, not super overly poor but poor nevertheless. I was able to score an internship at Gossip because of my good grades and inability to give up. In high school the students are mixed. Rich verses poor. That might have played a part in how I got Henry to date me. He was slumming I guess, just wanting to see what it was like on my side while I was desperately wanting to live on his side. I don't really know why he married me. Yes, He married me because I landed a job and he wanted me to pay his expenses through school. His parents cut him off because he had a drinking problem in high school. But because of his parents the 'law' decided to look the other way he was never written up. There was a rumor he got a girl pregnant and his parents paid her off and she moved out of the state. What wasn't a rumor was his arrest record. Well, what would have been his arrest record, see when your parents are rich nothing ever get written down, so there was no actual
arrest record, however, he was brought in
almost every night for drunk and disorderly. The cops always looked the other away and he was out by morning. The real reason he got into Law school was the fact that his parents bought the school a wing. That's another reason they "cut" him off, the wing apparently was very expensive. But that was just a rumor. I don't know why he got in, could have been because he was screwing the dean of admissions. I'm just saying, anything is possible.

I think regular people look at rich people and envy their lives. They don't have to worry about paying the bills or putting food on the table. Would you be shocked if I told you that many of the rich people are in massive debt and worry about money every second of every day? When I was with Henry we gave everyone the impression that we were rich. Henry often pressured me to spend beyond my means. I was born with a good head on my shoulder, having parents who did not believe in credit cards. It is shocking to see how far I have fallen. I'm in so much debt right now just trying to stay afloat, that I'll probably be paying it off with social security in the future.

Six months go by. Six months. You know what I have accomplished in six months? Nothing. But the guys online have all gone back in time to be stupider. So at least they have done something with their miserable lives. Man, I'm such a loser. I'm off to another meet and greet. This time I have a stylist, Sara. She is letting me wear her pink sparkle dress and her pink Gossip high heels
.
She claims she got the dress on sale because it was the display model but I know the real reason. The dress was on sale because it blinds oncoming traffic.

After getting out of my car at the event I realized, yeah, I can't walk in these heels. Each step I take I am putting my full weight on this little needle fashionably called a heel. Surly it will break under my weight. Crunch, I take another step. I'm bobbing and unstable. I can barely walk in a wedge, so I take them off and go barefoot. I would rather arrive alive then break my neck trying to balance on theses monstrosities. Crunch, glass just breaks beneath my feet. I'm scheduled for a tetanus shot anyways.

It's a long cold walk to the event, since I, not wanting to spring for parking, parked miles away. Anything to save a buck, that's my motto. It is dark out though, and very cold. I had to bring my winter jacket, I had to promise Sara I would take it off once inside. My jacket apparently ruins the outfit. When I finally get into viewing range I see it is going to be held in a school. Wow, paying to meet people in a school. I say it again, ok it doesn't sound that bad. But charging for parking is a little much.

I walk inside the gymnasium and notice that the prom decorations are up. Oh I loved prom. I went my senior year with Henry. He went three years with another women but I won his heart in the end. Take that Mrs. Greenwich, yes he went with a teacher. She was actually my mentor who really helped me a lot in high school. Wait, why am I so happy? Henry and I got divorced. But a win is a win. Oh it's so beautiful; the colors are purple and white. There are balloons everywhere and the strings on the balloons are curly. I feel right at home in this pink sparkle dress. I have the sudden urge to dance but I refrain myself. No use giving it all away, I think to myself. I do wonder if the prom happened last
night, or if it is happening tomorrow night. What I really wonder is
if I can take the balloons or will that crush dreams?

Ok, this time I am going to have a positive outlook. Maybe that really is Batman making out with Superman. That can happen. That is probably just a new comic book. I walk over to the lavish buffet table filled with pop tarts and cheese. There is hair on the cheese. But I like cheese. Hmm. Better not. Luckily Chewbacca steps in and grabs the cheese. Oh thank you, because I was really debating about eating that. You see, in order to fit in this dress, I didn't have supper, or lunch. Oh we're starting soon. I guess I should put my shoes on. Oh, my ankles hurt. Heels are not for the weary. I sit down in a metal chair attached to a desk, then quickly put on my shoes. Theses tables aren't really tables but desks from the classrooms. They are kind of set up like groups. Do you remember in High School when you had group projects and the teacher took thirty plus desks and somehow arranged then into four groups, well it looked like that.