Cherry-Picking Pig Hearts, or My 3 Black Scorpion Wedding
Once I had been invited to a old girlfriend's wedding. I still held a torch for her, but in that lazy kind of way that says "yeah, I still care if we ran into each other. I've got her number here somewhere...". Her new husband was a decent guy, a handy guy. I could tell after a few minutes that he was taking care of her alright. I forget what he did for a living. Something safe and near the 3-digit salary range. His belly told the story better than he did.
She was still upset with me over our past. There was a lot of "go on, dear, tell Steve what you do for a living", and talk of where they'd gone on vacation. I wasn't listening. I felt as if I'd been invited just to be shown up, and that she'd moved on. So when she brought out a small, lacquered box containing several adult male black scorpions, I thought it was just another piece of her arrogant puzzle being fitted into the evening's plans.
She emptied the scorpion box onto the back patio, and I could hear their sharp, ebony claws scuttling on the mexican tiling back and forth outside the sliding glass door.
She told me that to "get closure" on our relationship that I'd have to get stung by them.
"It's the only way," she said, with a condescending smile.
I looked over at her fiance for some male back up to this obviously demented request. But he just looked at me and gave me that diluted "Women - what are you gonna do, man?" smile that left me hanging.
I looked out the patio door again to see a curled and sinister-looking appendage flash by. I hesitated. I looked up at her dubiously and she suddenly marched to the door and opened it.
"Get out there!", she demanded, "We've got the wedding to look after, you know!"
She was stung as the words left her mouth, quickly and stiffly on the underside of her foot. She staggered back to the bed, sweating and twitching into seizure. Her fiance tucked his hands under his armpits and started looking around frantically.
"Get a doctor, you idiot!" she screamed at him as she flopped around on the bed.
I gave him a "what are you gonna do, man?" look and left. The sun outside their bungalow was warm, and it felt good to get into the car and drive. Maybe I'd go get a bagel or something. As I headed into town, I could see them leaving for the hospital in my rear-view mirror.
"I like him," I thought to myself, "they're good together."
posted by Stefush at 7:16 AM
Once I had been invited to a old girlfriend's wedding. I still held a torch for her, but in that lazy kind of way that says "yeah, I still care if we ran into each other. I've got her number here somewhere...". Her new husband was a decent guy, a handy guy. I could tell after a few minutes that he was taking care of her alright. I forget what he did for a living. Something safe and near the 3-digit salary range. His belly told the story better than he did.
She was still upset with me over our past. There was a lot of "go on, dear, tell Steve what you do for a living", and talk of where they'd gone on vacation. I wasn't listening. I felt as if I'd been invited just to be shown up, and that she'd moved on. So when she brought out a small, lacquered box containing several adult male black scorpions, I thought it was just another piece of her arrogant puzzle being fitted into the evening's plans.
She emptied the scorpion box onto the back patio, and I could hear their sharp, ebony claws scuttling on the mexican tiling back and forth outside the sliding glass door.
She told me that to "get closure" on our relationship that I'd have to get stung by them.
"It's the only way," she said, with a condescending smile.
I looked over at her fiance for some male back up to this obviously demented request. But he just looked at me and gave me that diluted "Women - what are you gonna do, man?" smile that left me hanging.
I looked out the patio door again to see a curled and sinister-looking appendage flash by. I hesitated. I looked up at her dubiously and she suddenly marched to the door and opened it.
"Get out there!", she demanded, "We've got the wedding to look after, you know!"
She was stung as the words left her mouth, quickly and stiffly on the underside of her foot. She staggered back to the bed, sweating and twitching into seizure. Her fiance tucked his hands under his armpits and started looking around frantically.
"Get a doctor, you idiot!" she screamed at him as she flopped around on the bed.
I gave him a "what are you gonna do, man?" look and left. The sun outside their bungalow was warm, and it felt good to get into the car and drive. Maybe I'd go get a bagel or something. As I headed into town, I could see them leaving for the hospital in my rear-view mirror.
"I like him," I thought to myself, "they're good together."
posted by Stefush at 7:16 AM
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