February 18, 2007
Originally published October 10, 2005
When I was working as a trash-burner, I had one of my Control Room Operators go on long weekend after a Friday shift. He told me that he was going to Atlanta to visit his cousin, who was about to be married. He showed back up for work the following Wednesday with a TREMENDOUS black eye.
I couldn't help but ask what happened.
According to him, he took his cousin out drinking, they got plastered, and when they got back to Cousin's place, Cousin staggered off to bed. The Bride To Be was still awake in the apartment. My operator and the Bride To Be started talking, one thing led to another, and before long they were busy screwing like wild minks on the couch when Cousin woke up and caught them in the act.
He hit my operator in the eye with a lamp and tossed him out of the apartment. The engagement was off after that.
I didn't blame Cousin for what he did, but my operator had an entirely different take on the matter.
"Hell, Rob," he said. "I did him a favor. Marrying that girl would have been a big mistake. If she'd fuck ME, she'd fuck ANYBODY."
Having walked into a similar situation myself after nine years of marriage, I now think that my operator was wiser than I am.
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