Thursday, April 24, 2008

Tres' Bien Ensemble

I have a long history of not getting the girl. I realized this, when I was looking at birthday cards for my wife. I landed on a "Sixteen Candles" audio card with a picture of the dude that played Jake, (google it, I'm tired) and Molly Ringwald, in the final scene. I was thinking of how many Molly's I have lost to Jake's. "I know This Much Is True" mocked me as the card opened.

Third grade; Tammy Tippens left me for Bobby Larrito because he had long hair.

Sixth grade; Tammy Reacer left me, for my best friend Andy, because he looked more like Peter Frampton, than I did. Thus ended my run of Tammy's

Tenth grade; Julie Johnson left me for Rich Vincik, because he got his license before me.

Eleventh grade; Rhonda Noyse left me for James Bell, because he had a Mustang.

When I met my wife, she was a waitress at the Flamingo Cafe'. She took one look at my leather coat, (with shoulder pads) the boots, bolo tie, and puffy shirt, and she asked me if I was a drug dealer. When I asked why she would think that, she told me that all musicians were broke, and since I had a new car and clothes, I must be subsidizing my income. I was working days, playing five nights a week, and I was really offended by these assumptions. I had to have her.

She was dating a guy named Dane (I know) he was nearly six feet tall and he looked like a model. Everything I lack in the looks department, he had spilling out of the bucket. They had been dating five years, and they lived together. I had no chance.

The thing I didn't know, was that he was a chump. He gambled, drank too much and had a roving eye (and other body parts). He committed the ultimate sin against women, he neglected her. Slowly, (eight months, but who's counting) I made in roads. I would rub her neck while she rolled silverware. I would give her a longing glance while singing U2 songs. We would accidentally meet at Finale's after work, and hold hands under the table. It wasn't long (eight months, but whose counting) before Dane (I know) was filling out a change of address form.

Michelle and I have been together for nineteen years. During that time, I have watched her grow from a shy wall flower, into an assertive business woman. She is the living embodiment of kindness and patients. She will spend money on gifts for friends and family, but I have to force her to buy clothes for herself. She lives with me, which guarantees her a good after life. How could you not love a girl, whose name is a Beatles song?

This Sunday is her birthday. Last year, she slept in a chair at the hospital, while I drooled in a neck brace. The year before that, she was away on business. This year, it is all about her. I am going to make sure she knows it's her day. She will never know what she means to me. I am always looking over my shoulder for some Dane (I know) to steal her away. You see kids, sometimes the funny little guy in the story, does get the girl.



juancho said...

And that means it could happen for anybody, even me! Happy Birthday Wrecking Ball's lady!

I think I remember that Dane dumbass. Looked like Michael Bolton?

Anonymous said...

It's true, I was a total douche.


Human Wrecking Ball said...

If you need a puffy shirt let me know!

Ms. Moon said...

That was pretty precious. In a very good way.
I hope she had a wonderful birthday.
And I don't think I'd worry about Danes too much if I were you. Sounds like her heart is yours.

SeanC said...

Cheerio, Unc-Dog,

Greetings from jolly old England, land of warm beer, crappy food and doing anything you can imagine doing on the opposite side a sensible American would do it. Also the home of adding strange vowels like y, e and u to words - without any real ryhme or reason (ie. tyre and colour, etc). Call me a cynic, or maybe just Irish. Anyways, its no fun if you can't take the piss every now and then - oops, sorry, there I go talking like a Brit. I am slowly being assimilated.
Thanks for visiting the family blog. I didn't even know you had one of your own. I have enjoyed it a lot, what I've had a chance to read so far. Loved the post on Davey. It put some things into perspective from my own childhood as a second generation of Irish psychopaths.
We hope to pass through FL on our way home in Aug. Hope to see you then, maybe I can find my way into one of your bloggings... my fifteen words of fame.
For now, I have to go beat this crazy Brit talk out of myself with rubber hose while reciting the national anthem 10 times... and 2 Hail Marys.
Until Aug! Cheers!
Sh*t, 30 more lashes... SC

Human Wrecking Ball said...

Sounds good nephew! Let me know when you are coming and I will drag my old ass down to see you and yer Da.
It's good to hear from you, I am glad you are kicking ass and making crazy bank!
I never talk like this, I hope it wears off!
Give us a call then loove.
Bob's your Uncle.

Magnum said...

yep, my gal was dating another guy at the time as well and I was oblivious to her intentions. She was obviously cooler and more mature and I never would have imagined asking her out-her boyfriend was in a ska band!
Anyway, one day she started asking me questions like, "do you think I should dump him?" or "do you think you could wake up and hit on me a bit?" The second question was implied; that's how doofus I was.

I figured it out, oddly enough, and we've been together 19 years as well; how bout that!

Soooo.... I hear you and Dot are swingers?

Human Wrecking Ball said...

Easy H.I.

Magnum said...

you know, as in "to swing"

ha! gotta love the chance to use that!