Wednesday, March 29, 2006
He was lonely since his wife left him. She had run away with his paternal Grandfather. Out of desperation, he decided to try one of those computer dating services. The ad said satisfaction was guaranteed.
Eugene was shocked when he found out his ideal mate was an old friend. He decided that he would fix up a nice romantic meal at home. Then the two of them would spend an intimate night in front of the fireplace.
He had never had much luck with women. He always wondered if his problem might have begun when he found his blind father's cache of Braille Playboys. He was slapped the first time he tried to "read" the girl next door.
One day he met Lefty. They become fast friends. At times they were inseparable. This relationship left him empty however. He yearned for a female friend. He tried joining the Sunny Nudist Camp. In more ways than one, that experience was hard on him. He realized that he wasn't the outdoor type.
The experience at the camp had taught him that he enjoyed being seen nude. He decided to buy himself a trench coat so that he could persue his fetish. He was surprised that none of the women he flashed were as enthusiastic as he was with the practice. He plied his new trade in various venues across the city. Subway stations were ideal. But trains and buses were not. One day he would have to look up the word 'pervert' in the dictionary. Then one fateful day, there was that horrible elevator incident.
His fortunes seemed to change when he "found" Mary Lou. The timing couldn't have been better since he had finally recovered from the surgery that had corrected the damage he'd suffered from the elevator doors. He had been in excrutiating pain every time he tried to take a leak. He even had to reject any advances from his buddy Lefty because of the stitches. Yet he was reminded of his primal urges everyday. It seemed that even the urinals were making passes at him.
In Mary he found stability in his life for the first time. She was there for him when he needed her. She didn't nag him when he didn't put the toilet seat down. She said nothing about his clothes strewn about. While she never said much and never wanted to go anywhere, she was always ready, willing and able to pleasure him. Not once did she ever complain of having a headache. She never rejected his advances. He was able to do things with her that he'd never imagined were even possible given the limitations of the human body.
She loved for him to bathe and dry her. He didn't realize it at the time, but all good things must come to an end some day. So it happened that one day while he was drying his beloved Mary Lou, his neighbor called the police, claiming he was hanging someone from his window. It was a sad day for Eugene. The cops came and took her away. He never saw her again. She never called. She never even wrote - not even a card.
In a strange twist of irony, the woman next door felt sorry for him. Maybe to make amends for her actions that had cost him Mary Lou the blow-up woman, she allowed herself to become intimate with Eugene. Three months later they were married. The honeymoon was over almost as soon as it had begun. Where Mary Lou had not nagged him, his new wife was constantly on his case about one thing or another.
It wasn't long afterward that Eugene began to hang out in the nearby Kelly's Tavern. He began to drown his problems in alcohol. It didn't take long for her to discover his sanctuary. Soon every one of the regulars began to call him Sam, after the sobriquet his wife tended to use when she phoned the bar looking for him.
Eugene was destined for happiness in the end. He was neither saddened nor angered when he came home one night to find her in bed with his visiting Grandfather. He shed no tears when she said she was leaving him and was going to move in with 'Pops.' In fact, he helped her move her belongings.
When he was matched up with his old friend by the computer dating agency, his life was turned around. He hadn't been so happy in a long time. As he and Lefty laid back on the couch exhausted, he took a sip of his beer and thought to himself, 'It doesn't get any better than this."
Curmudgeon responsible for this post: Hale McKay at 12:42 AM