
breaking up is hard to do
When I got hired by Bob Bandit again about a year and a half ago I started making a lot more money. Instead of trying to go out and have a good time on the town with $12 in my pocket, suddenly I had $1,000 to blow.
It wasn't long after this jump in socio-economic status that I began to think that I could get a slimmer, smaller, and prettier girlfriend. The girlfriend I had wasn't ugly or anything and not really fat either. But she was pretty big. When I was on top of her in bed, I didn't really feel like I was having that much of an impact on her. And when she was on top, well, it was like I was being crushed by an angry bear.
Anyway, once I made up my mind to break up with my girlfriend, it was just a matter of summoning the courage to follow through with it. I remember I got myself all psyched up one afternoon to deliver the news. I was gonna go with the, I just don't want to be in a relationship right now, angle.
"I've got something important to tell you," I told my girlfriend on the phone.
"I'm at my place," she said.
"Okay, I'll be right over."
But when I got to my girlfriend's apartment I discovered that she had some friends over. They were watching a movie and smoking pot.
No big deal, I figured. When the movie ends and everyone leaves, I'll gently break the news.
Unfortunately, they were watching Shallow Hal, that movie where Jack Black gets hypnotized into falling in love with an enormously fat girl, and then breaks up with her when he gets unhypnotized and realizes that she's fat. Everyone was laughing throughout the movie except me. By the time Shallow Hal ended I had lost my courage to break up with my big girlfriend.
No big deal, I figured. I would just wait until the movie was no longer fresh in our minds and then break the news on another occasion. In the meantime, I got crushed by the angry bear a couple more times.
Then, one night, while I was waiting for Shallow Hal to fade from our minds I went out drinking with my girlfriend at this art show. I drank a whole bunch of beers and people bought me a whole bunch of shots and before you know it I was really drunk. Then I started itching for something else to go along with the alcohol buzz.
"Does anyone around here have anything interesting?" I said to my girlfriend.
"Interesting?" my girlfriend said.
"Yeah, you know. Interesting," I said.
A few minutes later my girlfriend brought me this little bag of stuff that looked kind of like coke.
"What's this?" I said.
"It's special K," she said.
"What do I do with it?" I said.
"Snort it," she said.
So I took the special k back in the bathroom and snorted it. After that, it was time to go to another bar. My girlfriend jumped in my toyota truck with me and these two gay dudes came with us and jumped in the bed of the truck.
As I was driving drunk and on special k with my girlfriend and these two gay dudes I got this idea that it might be fun to go offroading for a while. So as we were going by this little park downtown I drove my truck over the curb and into the grass.
"Whoopee!" I said as we bounced through the park.
"Whoopee!" my girlfriend said.
But then my truck came to an abrupt halt. Apparently the ground was so wet and muddy from weeks of rain that my truck sank in right up to the wheel well. I put my truck in foward and reverse and revved the engine, but we just got deeper and deeper in the mud.
My big girlfriend and the two gay dudes pushed on the bumper while I stepped on the gas, but we were just stuck.
Pretty soon the cops showed up with their lights blinking and whirling.
"We got 'em!" One cop said. "His keys are still in the ignition. We got 'em."
The next thing you know I was in the back of the police car with my hands cuffed behind my back.
"I'm a friend of Rick Baker (the mayor of St. Pete)," I said with drunken indignation. "You guys are gonna be in big trouble!"
"Okay, buddy," the cop said.
Fifteen minutes later I was at the St. Pete police station with a breath-a-lizer tube in my mouth. I tried to fool the machine by puffing my cheeks out really big, but not really blowing any air.
"Cut that crap," the lady cop said.
I did the same thing again, but this time just blew a little smidgen more of air.
"Okay, that's enough," the lady cop said. "We got our reading."
Then they put me in a paddy wagon with a couple of other drunks. It was kind of like taking one of those big vans to the airport, except we were all drunk and in handcuffs and we were going to jail.
The person next to me was this big, silverhaired Irish looking dude. He seemed like a nice family man who was really ashamed of himself. He just looked sadly at the floor of the paddy wagon and sighed. This other lady was some sort of a pissed-off, loud mouth. She had been kicked out of Wet Willies for some reason. She kept threatening to piss in her pants if they didn't take her to the bathroom right away. And then she did piss in her pants right there in the van.
It was three or four in the morning before I got to the holding cell where they let you call someone to try to bail you out of jail. The room was really bright with florescent lights and there were weird and scary people scattered about.
I went over to the pay phones and thought about who to call. I couldn't call my parents. They would be so horrified and disgusted with my situation that it would kill either them or me. I could call Matt or John, but they weren't gonna jump out of bed at four in the morning for my sake.
I knew there was only one person I could call--my big girlfriend. Bailing me out of jail would be a pretty major thing for her to do. As I dialed my big girlfriend's number, I figured I would have to wait at least a week to ten days more before I could break up with her.
5:30:03 PM
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