"Hi Sweety, I'm glad you're home!"
Oh things were looking up! I had the crappiest day. I spilled my coffee on my pants at breakfast, and had to go change before going to work. When I changed out of my paints I. Noticed the shirt was stained too, and had to take the time to change it and add a different tie. So I left for work late, which had me going a bit too fast resulting in a ticket for speeding in a school zone. I don't know how it is where you live and work, but here it's like passing a school bus with its lights on, a thousand dollar fine. Of course, that meant a further delay as the cop checked my license, registration and insurance, and impounded my car for outstanding tickets. I didn't remember any outstanding tickets. It had to be my wife. She liked my car for shopping because it had a bigger trunk.
So after the cop's lecture is done, I get to work to find my boss pissed that I missed the weekly production meeting. So after an hour of him chewing my ass, me making a personal report to him on my departments production, and me kissing his ass, he fires me. Turns out some young hot shot sold him a bill of goods as to how to better run my department, so my missing the meeting was the last straw. So I went to clean out my desk, and just as I am finishing, the phone rings. I answer it myself since my secretary has already been reassigned, and it is my daughter. She's talking fast. All I can get out of her is blah blah blah new boyfriend blah blah really hot blah blah blah spent the weekend blah blah living together blah blah pregnant blah blah big wedding next week. Oh good.
So I called my boy to see if he knew WTF his sister was thinking. My son had better news. He was taking a year off college to go trek the foothills of the Himalayas seeking the meaning of life with a Guru Maha Mini Mini Ha Ha or something. He would be out of contact for at least three months, but would be sure to keep a journal and publish it as a blog when he came out of his quest.
I left the office building and got a cab downtown to see about getting my car back, but it wold not be completely processed until the next day, and I would have to appear before a judge to get it under the new scofflaw act the city had just passed. So I hailed another cab, the driver of which smelled like a goat and spoke barely passable English in a dialect that seemed a cross between Scottish and Swahili, so I bailed out and ended the ride about a mile from home at my favorite neighborhood watering hole.
The keg on my favorite tap had gone bad and the brew was flat and soured. They were out of my favorite bourbon, and my favorite waitress was on vacation leaving me with toothless Terry, the grouchiest bitchiest man hater you ever met, so I settled for an Old Bushmills neat and decided to pass a bit of time brooding and crying in my whiskey. The drunken fool who mistook my ass for the bulls eye on the dart board could do nothing but laugh at me, but at least my friend Rosco, the barkeep had the sense to usher the guy out before I took his head off. When Terry waddled her cottage cheese filled bulk over towards me with the first aid kit saying "let me help your asshole Asshole" I left.
So I flowed home in my one man whiskey flood, and found a decent Tennessee swill in my own liquor cabinet, and had just settled into my comfy chair in a suitably dark room when my wife's sing song greeted me.
"Hi Sweety, I'm glad you're home!"
Strike 1.
Then she turned on the lights and opened the drapes. So much for suitably dark.
Strike 2.
She was messing with fire.
"I have some good news and bad news."
I hate those fucking jokes. They just are never quite right. Forget about funny, they are just so wrong.
Strike 3.
I was just about to call her out and throw her out of my fucking game when she continued. Damn her. This woman's voice was music to my ears, I couldn't call her out now.
"The good news is I have found my soul mate."
Oh fuck. Can I invent a strike four? Can I decree hat there is an extra harsh penalty for strike four!?
Strike four.
"The bad news is I would like your blessing and a divorce."
Now logic would suggest strike five, but that wasn't the case. As a matter of fact, the good news was actually good and the bad news really good. But she went on.
"Before you over react, I am proposing he most generous of settlements. I intend to take nothing except my clothing and personal care items. I'm denouncing my claim to any community property or financial support now or in the future."
Let me see, I had good news, then really good news, so I was up to...rescinding strikes three and four, there would be no call of out and no ejection from the game.
"The kids are grown, and they will always be our connection to our old lives. We will see each other at weddings, baby showers, all that good stuff..."
Oh. She was leaving, but I'd still have to see her?
"So you'll get to see me."
I might reinstate strike three...
"And Teddy is very sensitive to the fact that he is taking me from you in your golden years. He knows you didn't expect this, and has agreed to let me make conjugal visits on your birthday and our anniversary each year. So that is good news too!"
Oh no, no it wasn't!! I had to dissuade her from this one!!
"However, he says once he and I are married, I can only give you blowjobs, not my pussy..."
Phew, that was a small blessing. No seriously, if you haven't figured it out, my wife Sally was the worst fuck in the history of copulation. That's why the bad news here wasn't so bad, and the good news was great. Thing was she couldn't suck a dick worth a shit either, so I might still need to find a way out of these conjugal visits. How did she manage to pick that term for a mercy fuck? After all, a divorce would be letting me out of prison.