Skip to content
September 24, 2007 / Meredith

R.I.P.

Back in, oh, I suppose it was around 1980 or so, I broke up with a guy. It’s a long, sordid story that involves Space Invaders, sibling rivalry, a penis with no girth, and accusations of infidelity. I won’t get into it because it is so painful…not. More like, boring. Anyway, I had broken up with this guy, and as they always do, he came back. I must have embodied some advice I heard, leave them wanting more. All of them, my old boyfriends, came back at one point or another.

Anyway, a few weeks after we broke up this guy called while I was in the midst of some family event. I remember sitting around the table with everyone when the call came. He wanted to know if I would go to Northrup Auditorium with him, that evening, to see Marcel Marceau perform. I told him no, I didn’t think that would be a very good idea. I knew there was more to the package than a free show given by an internationally known artist. All I could think of was that pencil-like weiner and gallons of cold sweat. Ew. Besides, I was in the midst of a family event. Someone’s birthday or something.

I hemmed and hawed. I told him I was busy with the family. He practically begged me, and the more he pleaded, the bigger my ego got. My entire family was overhearing the conversation, and my mother finally asked, “what does he want?” I told her, and she gasped and said, “Go! You have to go! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” OK, she didn’t know about his, you know, or that I would be expected to touch it at some point in the evening. Then ego says, he wants you bad, and you know you love it when that happens.

I knew it was wrong. My mother always told me not to lead men on. She always told me not to keep friends just for what they can give you. I was going to make the adult decision and say, no, it just isn’t a good idea under the circumstances. With him begging me in one ear and my mother telling me to take advantage in the other, what could I do?

He picked me up and we went to see Marcel Marceau. Despite the bad rap mimes get, it was one of the most wonderful shows I’d ever seen. Despite the cognitive dissonance I got from my mother telling me to “take advantage,” I’m glad I caved and accompanied this guy. Extra plus, gentialia was not part of the evening’s expectations. We merely made out for about five minutes after he took me home. The making out part was always kind of good.

All in all it was a good night.

And a sweet good night to Marcel.

The End 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: