18 months of telling him the same joke over and over at the bar that I worked at, the one he went to after work everyday.
“How does it go again?” he asks.
“Oh. My. God. Two little aliens land their space ship in the desert. The walk up to a boulder and say, ‘Take us to your leader or we will eliminate you,” I say caving again and again.
2 years later we move in together even though I had promised myself I would never move in with anyone that I wasn’t married to. Compromise.
“The boulder doesn’t respond and the aliens shoot it, the boulder goes up in smoke.”
We move in with a friend, a safety net, in case it doesn’t work out.
“They walk up to a cactus and say “Take us to your leader or we will eliminate you.”
We rescue two kittens, litter twins. We name them Ivy and Skitchy and spoil them to high heaven.
“The cactus doesn’t respond and the aliens shoot it.”
We find a new local bar, Mona’s and make our first friend as a couple, Emmett.
“The aliens continue to walk and they find a highway and a gas station.”
We experience the death of a father and two grandfathers, the beginning of many such deaths.
“As they walk across the street and the first aliens says to the gas pump, “Take us to your leader or we will eliminate you.”
Molestation revelations from each of our sisters come to light not six months apart from each other.
“The second alien says to the first alien, ‘Wait!”
We endure unexpected pancreatitis, equally unexpected surgery, semi-employment, unemployment, the penning of a book, fits and starts of several projects. We excel at surviving but not flourishing
“The first alien ignores him and pulls the trigger.”
At 40 he flags, exhausted and scared. He decides that his new best friend at work is Jack Daniels.
“The gas pump explodes and the aliens are blown back into the desert.”
Jack and him party too much one night and he ends up with a shattered jaw while having no medical insurance.
“As they get up and dust themselves off the first aliens says to the second, “How did you know?”
I hope that this is the wake up call that he can hear, that we will turn the corner to a better place.
“Anybody that can wrap their dick around their neck twice and stick it in their mouth is a badass motherfucker.”
Hoping has turned into waiting, and more waiting. I need to hear our punchline so I can laugh, cry or groan, maybe all three, but once I hear it, I can let it go.