The quiet before the storm is what finally woke him. In a cold sweat, he stumbled off the wrong side of the bed and toward the bathroom mirror, lighting up a cigarette as he went. Meeting his own gaze was difficult at best. For all intents and purposes what he saw staring back was a green-eyed monster.
Never before had he felt so alone in the world, a bubble burst by its own checkered past. He was a man of humble origins who'd risen to the top, having been the only game in town and a pillar of the community with red cents galore. Now he was a church mouse nobody, a bad apple in a barrel full of thin ice.
Once and for all he'd been called on the carpet by the love of his life and partner in crime, caught red-handed in another man's cookie jar. His better half had finally had enough and told him the jig was up.
"You bit the hand that fed you once too often," his lover told him, rubbing three days growth of beard and blowing smoke into his steely blue eyes. "Your heart is black, like a giant Ace of Spades. We're finished."
With nothing but the clothes on his back and a pocket full of wooden nickels, he drained the last of the whiskey and headed out into the eleventh hour of what would eventually become the twelfth. A shadow of his former self and down at the heels, he was a broken man whose time had come.
Desolate streets spread out before him, quiet as the day is long. He was in the gutter, not even a crossroads at which to lick his wounds. "Life's a bitch," he thought to himself, "and there ain't no light at the end of this tunnel." Not a hope in hell did this man have, the spilled milk of his life had been written in stone. "You are an expert reaper of playing with fire."
As luck would have it the skies had opened up and it was raining buckets by the time he arrived at The Salt Of The Earth bar, and he breathed a sigh of relief to see that it hadn't closed. He shook off the cold as he entered, sick as a dog and at his wits end. He had to take the plunge and set the record straight. It was now or never. He could no longer harbor this terrible secret. Time was of the essence and there was no better essence than the one happening right at that moment.
"This is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you," he told the bartender, "but it takes two to tango." At this point in time he stopped wiping glasses with the dirty towel and glared at the man groveling before him.
"Apologize till the cows come home," the bartender said with quiet contempt. "Consider this your wake up call. What comes around goes around, and that's the whole nine yards."
Y'all: We need to take a moment to call attention to the fact that today is
nomandates' birthday. Now, lots of folks have worked hard this year to elect Wendy Davis, including many out of state. Nomandates, though, has exhibited a singular drive and sense of purpose. I would be saying this tonight even if it wasn't her birthday because, frankly, from the first time I met her a year ago I have witnessed nothing but the highest commitment. An uncompromising commitment, one that is almost intimidating to behold.
It isn't all that often one encounters a person whose walk and talk is in such complete alignment. My hat is off to you, nomandates. You have my undying respect and I am absolutely, 100% certain I speak for more than just myself in this.
Much love and Happy Birthday! (Marti has the cake for you.)
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Kitchen Table Kibitzing is a community series for those who wish to share part of the evening around a virtual kitchen table with kossacks who are caring and supportive of one another. So bring your stories, jokes, photos, funny pics, music, and interesting videos, as well as links—including quotations—to diaries, news stories, and books that you think this community would appreciate. Readers may notice that most who post diaries and comments in this series already know one another to some degree, but newcomers should not feel excluded. We welcome guests at our kitchen table, and hope to make some new friends as well.
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5:57 PM PT: I edited the title to reflect the HBD to nomandates because it occurs to me there are many readers who might like to know that, and who may not be regular readers of KTK.