A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)

Monday, July 25, 2011

First there was George. Then Allan. And now, Richard. 

Did I tell you, doctor, that the first time I saw Richard, he was having dinner with his wife? Allan and I were at Le Vecchia and they were at the next table. I remember how handsome Richard was in his suit jacket and tie. Like a politician. And his wife was beside him, Barbara? Or no, Donna. 

"Excuse me," I leaned over and said to him, "do I know you from somewhere?" Of course, this wasn't true--I'd never seen him before in my life--but it got his attention, which was all I needed. He smiled at me and I knew it was on. And his wife barely even glanced up from her Chicken Kiev to notice.

Doctor, may I have a mint? Ooh. These are good. Caramel, not just the regular kind. 

You know, I never would've thought of going to therapy. But my friend, Cheryl has been seeing a therapist and he's fixed her right up. She's got anxiety, poor thing. Won't go anyplace where she can't see the exit. No grocery stores. Used to break out in a cold sweat if I even said the word: "Costco." Now she's at the mall every other day and doesn't even care if she can see the exit or not. It's a real miracle. 

What's that, doctor? 

Oh yes, we're here to talk about me. Right. 

Those wives are everywhere, looking smug. They think they're safe cause they've got a ring on their finger. Do you know how easy it is to land a married man? It's a world of starving husbands and there you are, just dangling the bacon. 

But then once you start in with those married men, it's never enough. And ordinary relationships just don't have the same thrill anymore. 

Maybe I'm not totally a lost cause. If Cheryl can get over her problem, I can too. Tell you what, next time I meet an interesting man, if I see a ring on his finger, I am going to head the other way. No more motel rendezvous, or calling me on the private line. My next relationship is going to be as healthy as a fresh patch of grass. 

Ooh. These caramels really are good aren't they? Delectable.

Tell me something, doctor. Are you married?

1 comment:

  1. Oooh very calculating, diabolical even. LOVED it!