Bad, Bad, Bad

Feb 17th 2010

Before I went down to eat, I decided to deal with those damn blisters. Stupid ass me had managed to get sand in them again and I had to cut them more open and wash the sand out. Yikes, that fucking hurts. But it was that or walk about with blisters filled with sand. Took 20 min but I got the job done and it made a HUGE difference in how I walked. No pain is a good thing.

Dressed up in my best pants, my good shoes, my expensive Cuban shirt and went downstairs, not sure what to really expect from a steak buffet. Got there and was greeted at the door by the host. Big smile on his face, his hands clasped in front of him.

“For one, please,” I said and he took my reservation card and led me inside.
He looked at my ring hand. “Ah where is your wife, amigo?”
“Not with me.”
“Not with you, why not, she is sick?”
“No.”
“Is she asleep?”
“No.”
“Did she not want to come with you?”
“No, she passed away.”
“Did you have a fight?”
Did he not hear me?
I turned to look at his stupid smiling face. “No dude, she fucking dead. Morte. Comprendez. Dead.”
I didn’t know what else to say, he had fucking got to me with his stupid ass sense of hahaha humor.

I don’t know for sure if he understood me or not , but he stopped fucking talking. He sat me down in silence and left. I was as mad as hell. What fucking moron, I mean let it fucking be.
Your wife not with you, tonight?
No.
Nothing more need be said. It could be she was sleeping, it could be we had a fight, it could be I was divorced or it could be I didn’t want to talk about it. He should have let it be.

Needless to say the dinner was not fun at all. Mad at myself for letting that jackass get to me, mad that, on steak night there wasn’t a steak to be seen, though the ribs were ok, and mad that I had to be alone. Gulped down 3 glasses of wine, tore through my food and stomped away. Took maybe a ½ hour.

Upstairs, got my laptop, took a glass and filled it with tequila and drank it so fast I thought breath had been stolen by fire. Calmed me down, though. I went downstairs and tried to catch up on the blog. When the battery died again, I went back upstairs. I hadn’t gotten everything posted but I had gotten all of yesterday ready to post.

Aside from the dinner, it was actually a good day. The sunset had been gorgeous, I had done a lot of writing and I learned how to do the blog (which, previously, Margot had done) and had talked to a nice couple from Ottawa.

Time for bed.

(Picture is of my writing place downstairs, in the internet zone.)