Just When I Thought I Was Out…
…they pull me back in!”
(apologies to “The Godfather”, via the Soprano’s Paulie Walnut.)
I’m in the money, I’m in the money…
After fifteen months of bare-bones scrabbling, I’m flush, with a couple thousand in the bank (my wife’s bank account, but that’s only because the I.R.S. are hanging above my head, waiting to pounce, all because of some silly little misunderstanding, …)
But, my wife’s bank account? Ain’t she the one who stole several thou out of your account, causing you to bounce checks all over town, get handcuffed and convicted of fraud?
Yup, same one. Listen closely, little grasshoppers: Life is MUCH more complicated than you could imagine.
Anyway, I’m flush. I can get my own apartment, set myself up, finally set up my own kitchen again where I know where everything is…
…I drive my wife’s car to pick up my boy. On the way home, I say: “Shhh. Listen to the engine.”
I gun it with the brake on. Death-rattle. We get home and pop the hood, investigate. I shake my head. Wig takes his lead from me and shakes his head.
He goes to give Mom the bad news, I go into my motorhome.
WHAT’s the bad news?”
I pop my head out. She’s standing on the top deck looking like Portia’s ghost (she just had an operation).
Me: “Get your car to a nunnery.” (Hamlet, Scene III. Never mind…)
She: “Please stop joking around and just tell me!”
Me: “It could be fixed, but basically, you need a new car.”
She: “But I’m broke!”
(Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in…)
Me: “But I’m not, any more. I was going to use the money to get an apartment, but if you don’t mind me hanging around in the motorhome a little longer, we could get you a car, instead.”
Looking like death or not, she comes careening down the walkway.
Hmmm – first meaningful, actual hug I’ve had in a long time.
Naaaah…it’s over. Just might take a little longer than I thought.
But maybe now I can just use her lawyer, instead of paying for one of my own…