Ginger No More

I formally ended things with Ginger this past weekend---we hadn't actually seen eachother for a couple of months but had had plans to get together six weeks ago. I waited until the day before she was to come into town to send her an email to the effect that I was getting serious with someone else.

I know, I know. I'm a coward when it comes to ending things. Especially with someone about whom I harbor suspicions of instability.

She has sent me several emails since then---conciliatory and understanding on the surface with a hint of resentment underneath. You know the type. I reminds me of the time I quit a job because I hated my boss. She arranged for me to give a cordial goodbye to the group so things looked normal, but reminded me that the company had spent a lot of money training me.

Well, tough shit.

Anyway, she can send her email fantasies to Len now, but he's already made it clear he's not going to live on my leftovers.

So, Len came in for St. Patrick's Day weekend. I'm not a fan of the day myself, but Marla is and at 10:00 a.m. she had already reserved seats for us in a Westtown Irish pub. We did several shots and spent the entire day drinking and Len appeared to be doing well conversing with Marla's female friends who had showed up, but....

This horrible smell, the most obnoxious fart, blanketed our section of the bar. Everyone near us winced, except Len, who rather unconvincingly denied that he was the source of the flatulence. Twenty minutes later, the same thing happened and one of Marla's friends asked another if it was Len. It certainly did appear so. Well, at least he was doing well conversationally.

Anyway, Marla and I left with some friends of hers and continued drinking and eventually everything disappeared in a blur. We had brunch with Len the next morning and spent the rest of the day recovering. Monday, the world fell apart in the financial markets and for me this week will not end fast enough. I haven't even had time to write in my blog....