"POW ~ RIGHT IN THE KISSER!"
On one such “even-steven” occasion Sandy claimed rightly so, that since I did not make the bed that morning due to my being in a rush, that I should wash the dishes after dinner.
Because of my male macho pride, I refused to and those dishes stayed in the sink for two days in a row.
Starting to stink, she said that I better wash them or she would not cook dinner.
Enraged and hungry, I piled the dishes into a shopping bag and threw them out the window onto the parking lot; where they would stay shattered for the entire weekend.
Stating that she was leaving to go have dinner at her sister’s house and furious at being left alone and starving, I grabbed her arm as she was going out the door and Sandy wrangled away.
Totally pissed off, I chased her down the two flights of stairs and she told me to fuck-off and leave her alone.
Remembering Jimmy Cagney’s argument ending solution, I reached back and slapped her ~ hard.
Hearing Sandy screaming, our upstairs neighbors came down in a panic and said that they were going to call the police if I continued beating Sandy.
Putting on my attorney shoes and pleading for mercy, the Mertzes agreed not to summon the cops ~ subject to my letting Sandy leave.
Also deciding to spend the night at her sister’s house, I invited a few friends over to block out my self-induced pain and drink the night away.
Because pounding hard rock music goes hand-in-hand with smoking and drinking, the thumping on the ceiling continued until the policemen came.
Shutting off the stereo when I saw the cop car pull into our complex, I ran down the stairs to confront them outside so that they would not smell the thick acrid smoke of high resin marijuana that was engulfing the entire floor.
Young and not much older than myself, the policemen told me just to turn the music down and proceeded to leave.
Since they had nothing better to do than to stare out the window, I looked up and gave a big middle finger to our super nosy neighbors upstairs.
Sandy returning home just before lunch, I profusely apologized saying that I would never hit her again.
Pardoning me for this first-time occurrence, we made up, walked down to the Serramonte Mall and enjoyed a much needed lunch at the Peppermill Restaurant, before returning home to a noisy triple play afternoon.
“Where’s your broomstick thumping now, Mertzes!?
Pray to The Holy Spirit constantly and simply from your heart, just as earnestly as He was your very best friend.
+ through Divine Intimacy ~ He IS!