Monday, July 27, 2009

The Other Woman

Some short (semi) fiction I wrote on a whim to sort through some feelings:

I see you there all sleek and toned, growing hotter the longer you're turned on, tempting the men around you to linger a while longer.

"Don't worry," my husband said, "She's just a friend. It doesn't mean anything." He kissed me and I relaxed ... a little, confident that you were out of the picture.

I'd be speaking to my husband at dinner, but our once sprightly conversations had been whittled down to one-sided chats with myself about the merits of TLC reality shows. As I chirped along about "Little People, Big World" I could tell he wasn't listening. He was thinking about you.

Yes you, with every spoonful of turkey chili I had so slovenly slaved away at that afternoon. I ignored it. Thought it might go away. But the ignoring got worse. The silence? Deafening. Now instead of perusing the romantic comedy aisle with me at Target -- which was our thing -- he sneaks away to "go to the bathroom", and I find him in YOUR aisle, mesmerized by all the games you two could play, all the disks he yearns to hand-feed you.

I tried to get rid of you, any sign of you, left like the proverbial lipstick on my husband's collar, but every time I was about to "accidentally" throw you off our two-story balcony, I held back. My husband had already spent so much money on you ... money I wasn't supposed to know about. Our jar of savings to visit Aunt Bertha, set atop the fridge as a reminder of our delightful plans to visit her in Duluth? Gone. Empty. Just like my heart.

I hope you're happy, with your seductive sensor remotes and optional nunchuks. Yeah, I may not offer a fitness package for an additional $89.99, but at least I can make turkey chili ... and let me tell you: That used to mean something. Then you came waltzing in just like you probably did to millions of other homes, but you can't fool me because there's a word for you: Homewrecker. Yeah I'm sure I'm not the first person to utter this nickname in contempt, so I suggest you get used to it. Instead of that slutty "W" tattoo on your side that you probably got in Mexico on some spring break trip in college (how original), all you should really have is a big red "A" across your chest, because that's who you are, my dear: Hester Prynne.

Don't look shocked. I know when my husband introduced us that you thought this was going to be a three-way thing, even though I swore I wasn't the type. I remember he made mojitos with bottom-shelf rum and tried to liquor me up to play with you and him like some sycophantic back-alley tryst in North Panama. At first it seemed fun, but on my third Bocador mojito I knew I just wasn't "that kind" of girl. And here we are now, you still in the equation. You, "that kind", the kind my husband lusts after.

This sick sadistic game climaxed last week, late one night when "the kids" were asleep. I could hear a clamoring of buttons from the living room, and when I followed the haze of flashing blue light cast from the television, I found him there, with you. He holding your goddamn nunchuks in his guilty hands. That was the final straw.

I'll be taking you out to our balcony ledge soon, when he least expects it, perhaps when he's out philandering with one of your sisters at a friend's house. But this time it won't be off our two-story patio. Oh no. This time I'm taking you all the way to the roof.

(alternate title: "Ode to the Wii"). Written on July 13, 2009 at 2:33am, out of sheer frustration!

16 comments:

Tami said...

LOL. you had me going til the end. :P
great job!

Revanche said...

:) Not even "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" soothes the anti-gaming rage. And I'm pro-gaming!

Lauren said...

This is why we don't have a Wii because I know he would become obsessed. There's already a battle for attention between me and the computer! So my feelings exactly except towards the laptop!

Fabulously Broke said...

I'm with Revanche.

Pro-Gamer in the house! BF already feel threatened by my spending time on the laptop so much :P

Suzanne said...

Really nice! No, really. Clean, impressive!

Mrs. Myers @ Eat Move Write said...

I feel your pain. My husband's other woman is named XBox360. Gr!

Note on writing. Interesting you knocked out a short fiction. I find Short Stories / Short Fiction to be the hardest thing IN THE WORLD to write. I don't know why. That's completely an aside and has nothing to do with your post. Just saying. :)

Being Brazen said...

LOVED that...very well written.

Diane said...

I think everyone has some kind of electronic minx out there ruining our families. LOL!

katrina said...

haha! I hate it when the husband gets a new game. He's the type that obsessively plays for like a week or two and then grows bored. Thank God he's not into Halo *shudder*

Simplelivin' said...

Lol well written! I am guilty of bringing 'her' into our home so hubby would end his affair with his Playstation, and I would be able to join in. Like Revanche said, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!"

Amber said...

Love it! I am going over to my boyfriends house today and I am so going to play with "his little harlot"!! LOL

The W tattoo bit is a gem, btw. :)

Crystal said...

Thanks for the feedback guys! It was intense irritation that drove me to put pen to paper in the wee hours of that night. LOL.

Mrs. Myers: I'm still on the fence as to whether I think short fiction is harder to write than novels. Sometimes I get stuck on the book and find that writing a short story (10-20 pages) gets my writing mojo working again! :P

Shelli said...

tell you can be "remote" too - if he's not careful :)

Mandy said...

You sneaky girl! I was sitting here reading this thinking, OMG.... is this an old love of hers? Then I laughed at the "Aunt Bertha" comment - images of a caucasian Big Mama's House fluttered into my head. Then I after the second mention of "numchucks" and your "Ode to the Wii," I finally got a clue. LOL! Beautifully written! (p.s. - I think you should still consider accidentally throwing it over the balcony) :-)

Bslno8 said...

Haha! So funny and clever! Great writing!

Victoria said...

I'm late finding this post but...

sigh, I had a very similar bout with a nasty little number known as the "xbox." She, unfortunately, is not going away any time soon.

I loved your "I said I wasn't the type of girl" line. Hilarious and perfect!

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