Day Gone Bad


The rain that started out as mereley a drizzle earlier in the day, turned into a downpour.

She struggled with the bag of groceries while looking through her purse for the keys to the house. She gave up looking and kicked the door three times.

Hearing this, he paused the game he was playing on the TeeVee and got up to answer the door. She kicked the door again and almost kicked him in the shin when he opened it. He grabbed the grocery bag from her and looked down at her feet. She was only wearing one shoe.

 

“Where’s your other shoe?” He asked her.

“It broke.” She replied.

“Is it in the grocery bag?”

“No, when the heel broke, I got mad and I threw it.”

“You threw it?”

“Yes, I threw it as far as I could.”

“Oh.”

“It went really far.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not. I believe that you threw it and it went really far.”

“It did.”

“I know.”

“What are your thoughts on Cheetos?” He asked.

“I have no thoughts on them.” She replied.

“Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

 

She took off her good shoe and threw it towards the couch. She glanced at the television and saw some sort of zombie game paused on the TeeVee. “Really?” She said. “This is what took you so long to answer the door?”

“I got up right away when I heard it.” He replied.

“Seriously, you’re 40 years old and still playing video games?”

“They soothe me down.”

“Soothe you down?”

“Yeah, when I just want to shut everything else out, I pop it in and for an hour or so nothing else matters. Everything disappears. It’s just me shooting at and killing zombies.”

“It seems like just a waste of time.”

“It is but it could be worse.”

“How so?”

“What I’m doing isn’t hurting me or anyone else. There’s no self-destruction involved. I’m not looking to a bottle for solace or doing any sort of damage to myself or others.”

“Except the zombies?”

“Except the zombies. Enough about that though, tell me what happened today.”

“Today?”

“Yes today. What happened that got you all wound up?”

“Where to start?”

“The beginning. Always start at the beginning.”

“Well it started out normally. Until I burned my eggs.”

“That was that smell?”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, continue.”

“Then I went down to the dry cleaners to get my work clothes, but they weren’t ready yet. It was right by a street mailbox so I went into my purse to get the bills I needed to pay. Purse drops, everything falls all over the place.”

“That sucks.”

“Wait. There’s more.”

“I gather all the stuff up, put it back in my purse. I’m all set to mail the bills but that’s not the only thing that was in my hand along with the bills that I plunked down the chute.”

“Oh no, what else was in your hands.”

“My keys.”

“Oh crap. You didn’t?”

“I did. I mailed my keys.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you think I did? I tried to get my keys back.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. I started climbing into the mailbox and that’s when my heel broke. I got halfway in the mailbox and could feel the keys within my reach.”

“That’s good, you got the keys back.”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?”

“I got the keys in my hand but that’s when I realized I was stuck.”

“Then what happened?”

“I got arrested.”

“Wait, what? You got arrested?”

“Well no, technically not arrested but I did get a stern talking to from the cop that helped me out of the mailbox.”

“What did he say?”

“Something about it being against the law to steal mail or something like that.”

“But you weren’t stealing mail.”

“I know, I showed him the keys and he let me go. Not without laughing hysterically at me first.”

“Well I’m glad you’re ok.”

“That’s when I threw my broken shoe.”

“The one you threw really far?”

“Yes, the same one.”

“Where’d you throw it?”

“At the mailbox of course.”

“Of course.”

“Then the grocery store gave me a problem.”

“What problem?”

“They said because I only had one shoe that I couldn’t shop there.”

“No shirt, no shoes, no service?”

“Exactly. I told the manager I just needed a few things and he let me go but made very clear that this was a one time only thing he was allowing.”

“So you got the stuff you needed?”

“Yes, and then it started raining on me. Hard.”

“No umbrella?”

“Nope, left that here at home.”

“I’m sorry. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

“Why do you love me?” She asked him.

“Who said I do?” He replied.

“That’s not funny. I’ll ask again. Why do you love me?”

“I’m not really sure where you’re going with this.”

“I want to know because I can’t figure it out. I’m fucked up.”

“You’re not fucked up.”

“Yes I am. I’m fucked up; I say and do stupid shit all the time. I’m clumsy. I clearly don’t listen to the weatherman when he tells me it’s going to rain. I get stuck in mailboxes. So I want to know, why do you love me when I’m so fucked up?”

“If you’re going with that rationale of that way of thinking then we’re all a little fucked up. I say and do stupid shit all the time too but luckily you have a ‘tell’ and I know when to stop. If you’re not around then the stupid shit I say continues and then I’m pretty much fucked.”

“What do you mean by a ‘tell’?”

“In poker, players look for the other player’s tell. It’s a sign that they give that they have a good hand or they’re bluffing at what they’re really holding.”

“What’s my tell?”

“You raise one eyebrow up.”

“I do not.”

“Yup, you do. As soon as I see it go up, I know immediately to stop talking about whatever it is I’m talking about.”

“You’ll have to point it out to me next time. So is that the only reason?”

“No, it’s one of many.”

“Go on.”

“I love you because you’re smarter than me.”

“I am not.”

“Yup, you are. You’re constantly reading books on topics and authors I have never even knew existed. You know what I read?”

“No, what?”

“Superman and Batman comic books.”

“You read The Punisher too. I saw you reading that big one where he fights everyone.”

“Yes, I read The Punisher Vs. the Marvel Universe. It was pretty good. He kills everybody. You should read it.”

“Ummm hello, spoiler alert, you kind of gave it all away there, but I’ll put it on my to-do list.”

“We’re getting off-topic here. You’re totally missing the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“I love you because you’re insanely hot.”

“Thank you, but that’s totally superficial.”

“Have you met me? I’m as deep as a puddle, but you didn’t let me finish.”

“Okay, finish.”

“You’re insanely hot but you don’t act like it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You walk around like you’re normal looking but you’re in the two percentile.”

“Two percentile?”

“Seinfeld reference. Only two percent of the entire population is good looking. You made the cut.”

“Ummm, thank you?”

“You’re welcome. You’re goofy.”

“Goofy? Nice, real nice. That’s supposed to make me feel better how?”

“Smart, good looking girl who can act goofy every now and again and not care what anybody thinks. Face it lady, I hit the jackpot.”

“You didn’t mention my cooking.”

“Oh god no. I love you in spite of your cooking.”

“Hey, that’s not fair I’m a good cook.”

“Honey, you could burn water.”

“Okay, I guess the other stuff kind of trumps the cooking.”

“There’s a ton more but we’ll save them for another time when you’re feeling low and you need a little pick-me-up.”

“Fair enough.”

“Was I able to make it a little bit better?”

“A lotta bit better.”

“Cool. What do you want to do with the rest of your day?”

“First I’m going to change out of these wet clothes and then I’m going to need you to scoot over.”

“Scoot over?”

“Yeah, I want to kill some zombies.”

 

 

The End

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One Response to Day Gone Bad

  1. Mary J. Truesdale says:

    This is another GREAT one.
    So wonderful.
    Thanks GG
    You continue to lift my spirits.
    Love you,

    Mary🤗✨😝

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