Women is losers.
Because of the crazy chick at work who’s been asking for my help, I picked up a couple of books from Amazon.com. She asked me to buy this one, which hasn’t arrived yet:
On Amazon you can pick up used for short money. Because I’m me, and I like buying books in general (with which I then taunt myself by not actually getting around to reading), I figured I’d pick her up another one that looked a bit more to the point.
When it came yesterday to work (‘cuz we always have stuff delivered to work given we are seldom home during delivery times), I was a bit weirded out. I didn’t want to open the box and have one of my co-workers ask me about it. (Not to mention the folks with whom I’m friendly would probably ask, because they’ve all met M. and would be like “What the…?”) So I held the box until the very end of the day until maybe one person was left in my area.
And, then I thumbed through. Holy shit, you know the slogan “We’ve come a long way, baby?” Turns out, not so much. I mean, sure, maybe it’s a smaller subsection than say in 1952, but that book was published this century.
For me, the thing is, Pat left me with one life’s lesson, if she left me anything. Always, fucking always, have your own dough. Man, woman, child, whatever, your life your reigns to grab. It’s so deep in my psyche, I’m sure I’m an asshole to date, being as I’m all vagina-possessing and thereby weaker sexed. Can’t imagine not having some cash and holdings that are my very own. But, on the other hand, if I were a dude, I’d be like “Hell ya, woman, you got yours, I got mine, now let’s see what we can do together.”
I left it for her in a plain brown envelope in her work mailbox. I didn’t sign the note I left. I mean, if her husband is of a criminal bent, as has been implied, I ain’t have him searching out my name.