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April 13, 2005

one to a customer

My friend C. asked me "Are you ... starting to look around?"
Like, for a new guy? No.
"Good. Because it's my turn. You've had two and I haven't had any. You're done."
Done?

With husbands, I guess she meant. What, I've had my quota? Or I guess one more than my quota. Hey, it's not like I'm not throwing them back! They aren't chained in my basement or moldering under the sod in the back yard or walled up with a cask of Amontillado--they're free agents, out there playing the game, having cut their milk teeth on my heart.

In the 60's my friend J's Aunt Margita married a guy because they dropped acid together. And while I can appreciate that, or at least appreciate the experience, Being One With The Universe (and a spouse) takes quite a bit more effort when you're sober--and it was probably sobriety that led to the inevitable divorce a few months later.

So, did that guy count against Margita's quota? If you get married when you're high, does it count? Or is it just practice? I've had a few friends make testy remarks about my perceived "luck" with men, which is that I have them and they don't. Hello, two marriages and two divorces is not luck--not good luck, anyway. I don't get how getting my heart broken twice, really badly, means I have somehow given up my chance to be happy. Really. It seems to me that if I've filled any kind of quota, it's the heartbreak kind.

I mean come on. Sometimes I feel like my purpose in life is to show men exactly what it is they do not want. When do I get to the part where I get my quota of love and happiness? What about my quota of romance; who's getting that? Where's my quota of normal men? I demand a recount.

Posted by JudyLa at 06:00 AM | Comments (0)