Crazy is contagious. So is divorce. So is insanity, only you don’t catch insanity from your children, you catch it from having sex with nutjobs.
Breast Implants are for nutjobs. They send a signal, “Look At Me, Look At Me, Look At Me.” A 4-door Porsche is for nutjobs. It sends a signal, “Look At Me, Look At Me, Look At Me.” Gated communities are for nutjobs. They send a signal, “Keep Away World, I Have A Gate.”
Recently, I had a conversation with a dear friend of mine, who was trying to convince me she was struggling. She lives in her second gorgeous home, which is bigger than I could ever fill.
Her loving boyfriend recently got her a Convertible Bug, for no other reason than it was her favorite car and she needed something playful to tool around in.
Her 3-boys are endlessly lovable, even when they’re being brats, especially when they’re being brats. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.
I understand the desire to take what you can get. But it’s a desire best left in your first marriage.
15 states out of 50.
Am I supposed to be happy about the 15?
Or baffled by the 35?
A couple weeks ago, I was on the elliptical machine at the gym. A woman I’d seen around the gym got on the elliptical machine to my right. We’d been flirting, and I think she wanted to have a prolonged conversation, with a guarantee of elevated heart rates.
She brought the conversation around to my girlfriend. I told her I didn’t have one. She brought the conversation around to marriage. I told her I’d never been married. She asked why. I told her marriage felt like an exclusive club and I didn’t want to belong to an exclusive club.
She asked if it was a gay thing I was talking about. I told her it was a gay thing I was talking about. She asked if I was gay. I told her, “If you can’t tell what I am by the way I’ve been looking at you, then you’re blind, toots.”
She didn’t like me calling her toots. Which was fine, since I didn’t feel like flirting anymore. I found her tone of voice, and line of questioning, off-putting.
I got off the elliptical machine and hit the basketball court, determined to work on my free throw. I use free throws to set my shot, it re-awakens my body’s understanding of proximity to the basket.
This is a fancy pants way of saying it shuts out the world by focusing my attention.
Focus is earned. So is a big house. So is a Convertible Bug. Otherwise, you’re living your life chasing a result without any understanding of how hard it is to get there.
It’s supposed to be hard. How else do you figure out the difference between being a boy and a being man or a being a girl and being a woman, toots?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my other job. My other-other job. I have three jobs. One pays my bills. One pays my dues. And my other-other job is for me to know and you to find out.