Losing in Love

My life was a horribly small, dark, petty place, let me tell you. I was a shell of a man—worse than a shell, I was a magic shell, hardened by the cold ice cream of the world, and quite delicious, filled with nuts. I forgot what I was saying. Oh, yeah—my life was pointless and full of tragedy. That was before I met Melinda. And after I met Melinda, too.

Melinda was my girlfriend. What a day that was. Everyone said she was just using me to make her boyfriend nauseous, but I don't believe them. She was pretty mad when she said it, too, so I don't believe her either. I met her, both of them, actually, when I was working as a safety bar for an amusement park roller coaster. It was tough, but I got to ride for free all the time. Now who's the jerk, Mr. Big and Mighty Safety Inspector? I didn't see you ride one of the rides while you were closing the place down.

But in them halogen days, when I first caught a sniff of Melinda's perfume, I knew she would one day be my girlfriend. And then break up with me later that day—trust me, I know my luck by now. Doesn't mean I give up on love. I fell for Melinda hard, right off the top of the roller coaster, and she was the only one who came to see if I was alright. When she had safely removed all the money and metallic items from my pockets, she called for an ambulance. But I got up and skipped out before that, I ain't paying for no ride when you can sneak into a tire well and ride free. Before I left, though, I let Melinda know I was keen on her with an obscene gesture, and told her I'd be around the fair—I had no place to live, so I had to keep walking so as not to get busted.

Fate intervened later because I was picking up shells at the fair's shooting range (not much pay, but it tightens your reflexes for being shot at) I saw her fighting with her boyfriend two stands down, at the ring toss. I took a break and decided to hang close by, hoping I could nuzzle up close to her and leave my scent—my flirting skills ain't all that, maybe, but you always can tell when I like a woman. Then she surprised me, because she grabbed me by the head and gave me a big kiss. It was a shock, believe you me. I'll always remember what she said—"If you're not serious about setting a date, then maybe I'll just marry any retard that comes along!" It cracked me up. I love it when someone says "retard."

But it was not to be. Her boyfriend apologized immediately and they went out to get shitfaced, at least that's what I overheard. Still, I'll always have the memories. And her purse. She didn't notice that. I didn't want the money, of course, just the souvenir of my fiery Parisian romance. At least I think it was Paris. It could have been Austin. All Texas looks alike after awhile.

Valentine's Day rules. One of these days I'm going to spend it with someone who willingly spends it with me.

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