everyone. I have also been consequently the butt of everyone's jokes for the last six months. They laugh at how stupid I must be, how intolerable I am and how I threw my life away by divorcing my lawyer husband. They talk about how he never loved me and was only using me for money. They remark on my recent weight gain and short hair. They say things like "I must have decided to be a Lesbo once I realized I could never land a man." These things are mean, cruel and unprovoked. The thing is, they wouldn't have hurt so much it they hadn't been so true.
The next day I decide instead of eating in my cramped little cubical I will enjoy my lunch outside on the sidewalk. We have a break room, but I avoid it like the plague because of the gossip. So I go outside and find a nice spot on the cold hard concrete. The one thing I hate about the Gossip Magazine building is that it's located right by Bobble and Company, the law office that Henry works at. We got divorced before he got his corner office, but I have heard that it had a large red couch and leather chairs. Megan from work told me she went there once because someone ran over her kid, don't worry the little snot is fine, and she actually got him to be her lawyer. She boasted about his nice office and how much she loved it. She described the sofa as orgasmic. Then winked at me after saying "did you hear me Mar, I said the sofa was orgasmic." I know she wasn't talking about the disease ridden cesspool of a sofa. What? I'm just saying he probably had tons of women on it and I doubt he washes it or has it cleaned. I was no way surprised that Megan and Henry had fornicated in exchange for him representing her son in his case. She laid down on the break room floor all sensual with her beloved co workers standing around giggling. "I laid like this" she said rubbing it in. "I laid here for such a long wonderful time." Megan said meeting my eyes.
"I'm so glad, because I know from experience that he has crabs." I lied to her.
"Your words can't hurt me." she purred.
"I would also get a tetanus shot." I said meekly, "because that floor is a disease ridden cesspool ripe with urine." I scoffed. What? I'm trying to be nice. People pee on that floor.
Chapter nineteen
I really wish I had done more. I just don't know if I was ever fully developed as a person. I worked to get straight A's in high school, slaved away two years as in intern at Gossip. After landing a job I got married to the only guy I ever liked and then started my 6 years of domestic bliss while working fulltime. Now that I'm divorced maybe I should do something else. Maybe get a hobby or talent. I browse the classifieds and notice there is a class this weekend on life drawing. I read more. It's for beginners and advance painters. They set you up with all the tools necessary to complete the drawing and have you draw a male model. Oh how exciting.
I arrive Saturday at 6:45, fifteen minutes before it starts. I get inside and am directed to my easel. I stand there and wait while the room slowly fills up. Oh, no. Guess who just entered. Isabel, the woman Henry slept with. And of course she is directed and placed at the easel right by me. She is taking off her lavish mink coat, revealing her skinny sculpted body, and hanging it on the coat rack behind us. She is wearing a light blue halter top that reveals a newly pierced belly button. It looks red and kind of infected. Good. I hope she dies! Or at least is in a lot of pain...like me. Her long black gypsy hair extends over her round ample bottom. Her skirt of choice was one modeled after a hooker stabbing. It's black leather with a cute little red belt. She sports long black latex boots that looked hand crafted to fit her body. Her eyes are blue and green. She is wearing a black purple tie away head band which looks to be encrusted with diamonds. To anyone other than me, she is the picture of perfection, but every time I look at her, the image of her straddling my husband on the
The next day I decide instead of eating in my cramped little cubical I will enjoy my lunch outside on the sidewalk. We have a break room, but I avoid it like the plague because of the gossip. So I go outside and find a nice spot on the cold hard concrete. The one thing I hate about the Gossip Magazine building is that it's located right by Bobble and Company, the law office that Henry works at. We got divorced before he got his corner office, but I have heard that it had a large red couch and leather chairs. Megan from work told me she went there once because someone ran over her kid, don't worry the little snot is fine, and she actually got him to be her lawyer. She boasted about his nice office and how much she loved it. She described the sofa as orgasmic. Then winked at me after saying "did you hear me Mar, I said the sofa was orgasmic." I know she wasn't talking about the disease ridden cesspool of a sofa. What? I'm just saying he probably had tons of women on it and I doubt he washes it or has it cleaned. I was no way surprised that Megan and Henry had fornicated in exchange for him representing her son in his case. She laid down on the break room floor all sensual with her beloved co workers standing around giggling. "I laid like this" she said rubbing it in. "I laid here for such a long wonderful time." Megan said meeting my eyes.
"I'm so glad, because I know from experience that he has crabs." I lied to her.
"Your words can't hurt me." she purred.
"I would also get a tetanus shot." I said meekly, "because that floor is a disease ridden cesspool ripe with urine." I scoffed. What? I'm trying to be nice. People pee on that floor.
Chapter nineteen
I really wish I had done more. I just don't know if I was ever fully developed as a person. I worked to get straight A's in high school, slaved away two years as in intern at Gossip. After landing a job I got married to the only guy I ever liked and then started my 6 years of domestic bliss while working fulltime. Now that I'm divorced maybe I should do something else. Maybe get a hobby or talent. I browse the classifieds and notice there is a class this weekend on life drawing. I read more. It's for beginners and advance painters. They set you up with all the tools necessary to complete the drawing and have you draw a male model. Oh how exciting.
I arrive Saturday at 6:45, fifteen minutes before it starts. I get inside and am directed to my easel. I stand there and wait while the room slowly fills up. Oh, no. Guess who just entered. Isabel, the woman Henry slept with. And of course she is directed and placed at the easel right by me. She is taking off her lavish mink coat, revealing her skinny sculpted body, and hanging it on the coat rack behind us. She is wearing a light blue halter top that reveals a newly pierced belly button. It looks red and kind of infected. Good. I hope she dies! Or at least is in a lot of pain...like me. Her long black gypsy hair extends over her round ample bottom. Her skirt of choice was one modeled after a hooker stabbing. It's black leather with a cute little red belt. She sports long black latex boots that looked hand crafted to fit her body. Her eyes are blue and green. She is wearing a black purple tie away head band which looks to be encrusted with diamonds. To anyone other than me, she is the picture of perfection, but every time I look at her, the image of her straddling my husband on the
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