I can't believe you're reading this.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Desperate Housewives in Bergen County...

Well, it's amazing how exciting my weekends are gradually becoming. But, before we go into the main topic of Saturday, we can go into my Friday night and how I might have lost a chance because of my insecurities.

So, Friday, I went out for my friend Ellen's birthday. We were supposed to go to Tommy Foxes, and I got all dolled up, but we only ended up at Burkes. I got all dressed up to have skeevy old dirty men looking at me. However, the night was pretty fun, I didn't drink that much for the purpose of making another big mistake. I started writing my friend Barb a note on the back of a reciept when my friend Seana "pssd" me in the ear and said some guy was staring in our direction. I looked up really quickly with my hair still in my eyes and then I looked at my friend when the guy caught me looking at him. Shwoo, that was exhausting. Anyways my friend kept urging me to go up and say hi, but what guy goes to a bar by himself? So, I was having a little debate in my head on whether or not I thought the guy was cute and when I finally decided that he was, he got up and walked away. LOL. Just my luck. But then he came back in and circled the bar, walk toward our table looked right at me, turned around and grabbed a straw and then walked out for good.

What the fuck was that all about!?!

*******
So, once again, half of my blog was deleted after I typed about 2 pages. Anyways, I wanted to get into the topic that refers back to my title. On Saturday, my mother was driving me to work (which takes about 3 seconds) when she started telling me some interesting news. As usual her gossip always starts in the same fashion, involving an extremely long description.

"You know that lady who goes to our church, who used to be a little heavy and then she lost all that weight, who has the two kids, her husband is kind of short, and she dyes her hair blond, and sometimes she straightens it and..."
"Yea," getting the point after the first two descriptions.
"Well," my mother inhales a deep breath to continue on. "She was in the front page of the newspaper, because apparently she hired a hitman to kill her husband. You should see what she looks like."
Unfortunately, the drive came to an end and I wasn't able to hear the rest of the story until I went into work and picked up the newspaper. When I looked at the bottom of the front page, I wouldn't be able to recognize that woman. I don't think my mother understands that they don't have beauty parlors in prison to help you look good for the newspapers. And if we understood her to be a beauty conscience woman, I don't think she's all that excited about jumping into showers with strange women that could probably kick her ass. The first thing that came to my mind was not about why this woman would want to kill her husband. We all have our reasons for wanting to kill somebody. I didn't think about why this woman didn't want to get a divorce if things were that bad. Her husband appears to be a strict character and they go to church almost every Saturday and Sunday, and we all know the story about Catholics and divorce. What I really, really wanted to know, is how the hell do you hire a hitman?
Hitmen, loan sharks, and all those other secretive "professions" always seemed like they didn't exist. They were just made up for Law and Order and other crime genres. They were magical gnomes and fairies that lived in a magical forest called "Dark Alley." How do you get in touch with these people? Not that I want to. I was discussing this with my friend Tom and he says this happens all the time. Of course, I agreed with him, but my head was saying: "NO! THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN ALL THE TIME!" Maybe if you were a member of the mafia this may be an everyday casual event, but it doesn't happen around my town. At least I never heard of this happening before. When I was in highschool, I was always curious about how you met up with drug dealers. I was always curious about smoking pot, but I never knew how you met someone. It wasn't until one day this kid was hanging out with this guy that I took to my sophomore dance, and he offered me some acid. I was like here's my chance to experiment. I was excited, we were waiting outside of Quick Check and these two boys who were totally wasted were giving me a chance. It took me a minute to consider when I said yes. However, the boy that took me to the dance, jumps in and says, "No, not her." I was really dissapointed, I didn't need this kid to protect me, but now I'm grateful. This same kid that protected me, actually committed suicide a few years ago, and I'll never be able to forget him.
It just seems so crazy what is becoming every day, casual events. It's no wonder why people are avoiding marriage for fear they're loved one will turn on them. Where's the trust anymore? Well, if I ever see that boy at the bar again, I'll make sure to hand him the straw and say "the straw wins." Got to keep these people happy.

K

1 Comments:

  • At 8:49 AM, Blogger The Wire said…

    First off, I must say I find your blogs incredibly entertaining. No joke. Also, this line was funny, though I realize it was a typo: "The first thing that came to my mind was not about why this woman would want to kill her husbands." Hahaha! I didn't know she had more than one! We aren't living in Utah!! Anywho, I often wonder why I never encounter these "secretive" professions either. To my knowledge I have never met a hitman, loan shark, hooker, drug dealer, or been witness to an underground crime ring, the mafia, or an illegal gambling ring. And you know, it kind of annoys me a bit. I guess I'm not hanging out in the right places. I don't know. I wonder how people can get involved in these activities that I can't even find out about! I'm probably better off not knowing though. No need to complicate my life any further. That's a crazy story though about your prom date and the acid. You were better off not trying it. I've seen people on it before and they just act strange, very strange. I can see why you'll always remember your prom date. It's a corny saying, but people come into our life for a reason you know and maybe that was his reason. Hmm...

     

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