Long time readers of My Side know by now how this works. Friday comes and I write a short preview of what my weekend holds and, then, come Monday, I drone on and on about what actually happened. We know this. We've seen it many times before.
So, I thought I'd try something different today. I thought I'd write Monday's My Side early... and then see how close I come to the truth...
Monday, July 26, 2004
The Many Loves of Ken La Salle
Well, I'm back from Tim's and boy are my arms... I guess that only works if you fly, doesn't it?
It's been a long and exhausting weekend. Let me tell you what happened.
I left work Friday, ready to hit the freeway and make it down to San Diego by 6pm.
Unfortunately, the freeway hit me - and when I pulled into San Diego at 11:43pm, I said to Tim, in a slight and exhausted voice, "Where's my drink?"
Tim and I find it very important to drink; after all, who else is going to keep Absolut in business? It's not about us. It's about a strong economy. It's about jobs. It's about giving people a better life.
Two bottles later, I fell down.
Saturday morning - hung over. Shut up. Don't say anything. Please kill me. It was about that time when Vicky called. "Hi, honey," she said in her perky, un-hungover voice. "Did you have a nice night?"
I replied something like, "Mug murmul nug."
"Was your drive okay?"
"Mug murmul nug!"
"How are you this morning?"
"Mug murmul nug!!" She just wasn't getting it.
Tim awoke around 11am and, by 4pm, we were ready to go to ComiCon! Ah, ComiCon, the trough of slop from which all geeks must, as some point in their lives, feast. (Hey, it's either that or back issues of StarLog!) It had everything from dealers of old Silver Age issues of Jimmy Olsen to guys from Escondido dressed up as Borg. (Borg being the plural of Borg.... kind of like how Shrub's single brain cell serves as...)
By 5pm, we were ready to move on.
I looked across the border to Mexico and listened to the plaintive cries of all my former in-laws. (Cause, you know, Mexico is like one, big happy family.) They had known the promise I could bring to their country. Why the money I could have brought in from their fine trade in hookers alone would bail out their national debt! Sadly, for them, it was not to be. For I have found Vicky... (Note to self: Never bring Vicky to Mexico. They could get violent.)
That night, I walked alone on the beach. I thought about all the years I spent alone, all the time without Rosa, all the many months of solitude, all the many more weeks of terrible loneliness, all the even more still many more days of sadness, all the really a whole lot more than many more I'm talking a heap more hours of - anyway, that took me about five minutes and then Tim and I got drunk.
On Sunday morning, Tim wanted to go to breakfast. But first, Vicky called. I love it when Vicky calls. She's so great. "Good morning, sweetheart," she greeted me.
"Mug murmul nug," I said.
Tim wanted to go to Melissa's for breakfast but I just couldn't. To tear a poor girl's heart out like that and smoosh it on the ground and sprinkle black pepper on it and lightly sear it with garlic while preparing the potatoes julienne style... well, it just wouldn't be right. But Tim insisted. "Ken, you must go. If not for yourself, think of the poor girl. She'll be devastated. True. Who wasn't when they first heard you were off the market. God knows the entire state of California was. But she needs to know so she can move on - like the rest of us have moved on - if only we could elect a new Governor - and get Shrub out of office -" I stopped listening at that point because it was no longer all about me.
And so, to Melissa's restaurant, we went. And when she came to our table, there was a hint of hope in her eyes... even still...
But I had to tell her. "Melissa, my darling, fear not. The world is a beautiful place, filled with flowers and birds and dirt bikes and ice cream and licorice whips and Orange Bang and spaghetti and meat balls and.... where was I? Oh yes! Beautiful! Remember that Melissa, and be happy. For the future is before you. It is laid out like a road - a road to... um... Topeka... um, with cactus and gas stations and bus stops and - look out! That guy's making a left without signaling! And, oh, can you pull over at the next stop? That Whopper made me gassy..."
"Is there a point to this," she asked.
"Ken has a girlfriend," Tim said.
At which point, Melissa disemboweled herself. Tim and I thought it best to leave.
It wasn't long after when I had to return home.
"Come back soon," Tim said, secretly thankful to have me gone so I couldn't smoke his cigarettes and drink his booze and breath his friggin air - the bastard!
I returned home and found that Vicky had cleaned my apartment and filled my bank account and made me dinner. As I watched Tiny Toons and old episodes of Fraggle Rock, she fed me a meal made of chocolate chips and ice cream and cherries and carrot cake and told me I'd never have to work again and could play video games all I want. Later, we learned that Shrub had resigned, realizing all the horrible things he did and taking his life on the capitol steps. All nations joined together to fight poverty and there were never wars again. Soon, I was worshipped for the god I am until chocolate cows sailed over the moon and magic puppies danced fairy wishes over a deep... blue.... something....