I still really miss her in my life. I miss my wife. I miss my wife/life. In the entire history of monumental fuck ups that is my life, this will always reign supreme: I cast her away. And ‘regret’ does not even come close as a word. Pretty sure I can find a met-for-her, metaphor, but too lazy. C’est moi. The song below says it all and it is required listening. And yes! This will be on the test.
(Video Credit: Brian)
Yes. Yes I know! I skipped quite ahead with my last ‘Rhonda Post.’ Now I am gonna try to fill in the blanks and the timeline.
(Shit! Just realized some of this is ‘rerun.’)
I’ll get to the Next Chapter Tomorrow.
So one day she showed up at SPAN Instruments as an assembler.
She was beautiful and caught my attention ‘span’ See what I did there? Laughing out loud
(My attention span truthfully was short in those days, but she captured and held it)
And she was ‘built like a brick shit-house—very sexy—caught me more times than I can recall just staring at her. One problem she had, which kinda ‘marred’ her: she had HORRIBLE teeth. (I ignored this fatal flaw—the rest of her was flawless)
But the thing which was the most endearing and refreshing and charming was that she had such a pleasant Okie-White-Trash Demeanor. Always happy and positive about life. I was in dangerous peril of falling in love with her, but alas, she was married and so was I.
So ‘friends’ is all we could muster.
We worked together in that sweatshop for a year and then I enlisted in the Navy.
Once I mustered out, five years later I went back to work at SPAN
And guess who also showed up to work there again? With brand-new store-bought perfect teeth. Now EVERYTHING about her was perfect. (But she was still white trash, as/was/still is I, me.)
You already know the answer.
To be continued…