Seven Days While My Wife Was Away--Day Six

The Stripper Guru

TheOtherKev @pixabay.com

I guess I was a little fuzzy from the pot-smoking yesterday and needed something in my system, so I pulled into the Starbucks parking lot and ate an egg croissant sandwich. Then I went back in and bought another.

Maddie was returning from Santa Cruz tomorrow, and our house was in shambles; the inside of my Mazda looked like shit, and when my wife comes home tomorrow, I’m going to get drop-kicked out our broken bay window. She will either divorce me or commit me to an insane asylum, whichever was more vengeful.

I had to figure out a strategy, a plan that would make it look like I was the victim. I could say that a terrorist group tossed a pipe bomb through the kitchen window, or the Sibianese Liberation Army held me hostage and lit the kitchen on fire. But my wife was no dope. She majored in Philosophy in college, and she’d recognize bullshit when she heard it.

Or I could try something different, like being honest.