Bespectacled, respectable, incongruous, yet a lovely chat with Mr. Mayman.
His look was a studious one, spectacles slid down his shiny bulbous nose, mottled old crinkly skin. Well mannered, but initially distracted with the task at hand.
A relic of a man that Mr. May, but the belted denim jorts, touristy shirt and shiny sockless patent dress shoes belie his up to the minute knowledge of modern technology.
I watched him at work, setting up code, the algorithms lost on me. Started conversing with Mr. Man, I let him do all the talking, I gently prodded and asked questions.
Soon an uncensored biography began to emerge….my what skankulous lives are hidden behind the facade of a gentile old man.
The affairs, dalliances with damsels, all the while the Mrs. was at home taking care of the spawned love babes.
Mr. Man, living the high life, houses, condos, paid women, private planes….all that money could buy.
The Mrs. changing diapers, dutifully waiting at home for Mr. Man, poor Mr. Man locked up with his night-time cleaning crew in a time where cell phones had not yet come into vogue with their abilities to GPS and triangulate between cell phone towers and pinpoint the location of one cheating scoundrel. Yes, our HERO, Mr. Man, Mr. May. MrmaydoashepleasesbecauseheCAN! Oh and the money, the women and the SEX, oh the things money can buy. But one day that uneducated Mrs. got smart and learned of Mr Man‘s ways. She wouldn’t have anything to do with our Mr. MayfuckanythinginaskirtMan. So she left his cheating ass.
The Mrs., the high school dropout, working menial jobs to support the kids, support herself and keep her pride. That was the period in between the separations.
Mrs. Notasdumbasshelooks soon was back at home, her home state that is, taking nothing and asking for nothing from Mr. Manthefuckup.
Mr. Maysoonrealizeheisadumbfuck found himself free to party and fuck his brains out, every night, it was the 70’s. Life was good. Money, women and more money, no wife, no pissing, pooping responsibilities under foot.
But Mr. Maynowseethewritingonthewall found his big beautiful house devoid of the sights and sounds that make a happy home come to life. No wife, no kids, no joy.
Time to pay the piper as life comes full circle.
Mr. Manofthehomealone soon gets into pleaseforgivetheerrorofmywaysandcomebacktome mode…andthe Mrs. Noyoucomebacktome.
Soon Mr. ManIfuckedup and Mrs. I’llshowyou were reunited, Mr. Man out of his element in a new world having lost his money, businesses, friends and practically everything else…but now a second chance or 18th chance found himself working three jobs for reals this time, now having to stay at work overnight would soon wear the other shoe.
Now the Mrs. Thattookalotofshit from Mr. Fuckaroundalot found herself home alone again, but in her own turf now with a new-found confidence and built-in familial ego boosters, albeit not the best advisors promoting a happy home life.
Soon Mrs. Watchmefuckaroundlikeyou was out giving the goose a taste of what’s good for the gander. Mrs. YoufuckedmeovernowIfuckyouback met her next husband left Mr. ManIsuregotfuckedback for a new life as a new wife.
But fairy tales being what they are, “total fucking bullshit, unless you really are Cinderella” life came to a new lease – divorce from the new man and a second lease on Mr. Manlet’sdothisagain.
So Mr. ManIfuckedupbutIlearnedmylessonafterIgotplayed and Mrs. Ifuckedyoubackandnowwereeven went on the way to spinning their own happily ever after.