I've had an off & on relationship with a few men in the last four years I've been in Salt Lake City. No matter how hard I try to get them out of my life, they seem to return time & time again. Each time they leave, I always walk them out my front door, and with a big sigh, I utter these words: "I hope I don't see you again. I pray this will be the last." And each time, they leave with a knowing grin on their faces because sooner or later, they know they'll hear from me again. And of course, inevitably, I end up calling them... again & again.
Making the matter worse is how I wait for them like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home, counting the hours, or rather the minutes. I think they get a kick out of having me wait desperately. They show up an hour or two late each time, and just when I can't take it any longer & am about to dial the phone mad as hell, I can hear their car pull up the driveway. And of course when they knock on that door, my anger turns to a whimper of sort & I open the door slowly, totally defeated, yet glad to see the familiar face.
As they rotate & take their turns, it always takes a few minutes to get reacquainted with each of them. We always start by shooting the breeze about what happened the last time they were here. It's never a pleasant conversation as it's a memory I'd like to forget. Not only is the experience always painful emotionally, but the angst I feel before & after they leave drains me for days. That's when I want to leave this house & everything in it, and start somewhere new. Each time, what runs through my mind while they are here for those few hours is why is it that I still can't find a reliable man or have a real man in my life so I don't have to call them up.
I cringe at the thought of them talking to one another. (Yes, they know each other.) I wonder what they say. It's probably something along the lines of, "That poor chick...what is she doing still living in that big old house by herself. So pathetic...when do you think she'll get tired of calling us & leave Utah?" I wonder if they talk about what their visits cost me & the fortune I've spent on them over the last few years.
Larry, who was here just yesterday said, "Don't worry. I'm only charging you for two hours." "Thanks," I said with a trace of sarcasm in my voice, but he didn't seem to notice. $400 bucks! (I really need to switch my line of work.) Steve had only charged me $150 when he was here last, but then he was only here for half an hour. He's good & works fast, I suppose. I guess I should be thankful it wasn't John. Last time he was here it was $1,500, and the time before that, $5,000! F***!
I really hate Utah. Why didn't anyone tell me the cold winter will mess me up? (I guess my ex did, but all he talked about was the weight I was gonna gain from hiding out in the house all winter long.) How the hell was I supposed to know to take the damn hose off the faucet?! I didn't last year & nothing happened! Why now?! Why me, god?! How is a valley girl from Los Angeles to know that that's a potential disaster? Seriously, how many times will I have to pull up the carpet in that damn basement of mine before I leave this house & move back to California?! How many times do I need to call Roto-Rooter & have Larry, Steve, and John rotate through my house with a smirk on their faces?! How many?!
All that money & not an once of pleasure! What's the point of a relationship with men when the groans that leave my mouth aren't from ecstasy but the pain that comes from my miserly salary going down the drain, literally!
Matt, thanks for keeping me company this time. It eased the pain & for a second made me forget he was in the house.
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