Tonight I worked late and my boss stopped by my cube, as is her habit, to shoot the breeze. She asked about the on-again, off-again, as of last week on-again liaison of Bev (not her real name) with the bogus General Petraeus. Bev took two weeks off, beginning last Monday, because after a months long, whirlwind internet romance that he supposedly was able to conduct in spite of his being Commander in Chief, US Central Command, in Pakistan or wherever he's posted these days, DP was at long last taking a vacation from his post and coming back to the states, to Texas, to meet Bev and her elderly parents before they (Bev, her two geriatric lap dogs, and DP) began a road trip in her vintage Ford Mustang to his splendiferous mansion in...drum roll here, are you ready? yes, that beautiful, exciting, most romantic and vibrant of places...Iowa. Uh-huh. That's what Mr. Scam Artist told her, and she bought it, hook, line and sinker. Her days have been filled with decisions like whether to have the security detail with them or not...uh-huh. Like he could just dismiss that! There was just one little wrinkle, a teeny tiny matter that he hated to trouble her with, it having to do with money...he couldn't access his bank accounts to buy his ticket, that darn ex-wife...(current wife to the rest of the world, because the divorce was secret, of course)...
Dunno whether she sent him the money or not. I did hear they were fighting about something. My overactive imagination immediately thought of a few things she might object to, like, in addition to asking her for money, maybe he asked her to bring rope, duct tape, gloves, garbage bags and a shovel, for example...but I digress. Someone who couldn't stand the suspense (not me) called her on her cellphone last week. Don't have any details, but it seems he no showed, so she was at home...alone.
Physically, at least, she's safe. Dunno about her bank account, and don't even want to contemplate her psyche...but I thought of a poem by Bukowski, entitled Oh Yes...
there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.
3 comments:
As a lifelong resident of Iowa, I can say that it is sometimes beautiful, romantic, etc., however I was not aware we had such an important resident.
Odie
I wanted to create an internet reality game. To prove that the BS factor is so high. A contestant meets ten people online. Nine of the people are bogus. [Men posing as women. Old posing as young. Straight posing as gay, etc.] One person is a match. [Thanks to Match.com or Perfectmatch. Or eHarmony.] Each week the contestant has to eliminate one of the ten people. If he/she eliminates all the bogus peeps and ends up with the match, he/she wins a bunch of money. [It escalates each time the contestant eliminates a fake.]
On the other hand if the bogus peeps fool the contestant and the contestant's match is eliminated early, the fakes get to split all the money.
I think I have too much time on my hands.
I love Mrs L's idea for a reality show based on this... ;)
I have a really h ard time believing there are people out there who are THAT STUPID!!!
Guess P.T. Barnum (?) was right when he said, "There's a sucker born every minute..."
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