people can be happy with other people. Iâve never liked driving myself and my new wife can drive just fine, which is probably strange for an Eastern European. I didnât ask if she had a valid license, but Iâm sure she does. And when I say Iâm sure I mean I hope she has a valid license. If we get pulled over here in Piscataway and she gets busted for driving without a license I can foresee a chain of events that conclude with her deportation back to Poland or Slovakia and my ending up on my sisterâs couch for a couple of months, dodging bows and drinking tea and slipping brochures under her bedroom door.
My new wife is a marvel of Eastern European design. She has the hair and the eyes and the cheekbones that protrude three paces ahead of her and that way of walking around the world like itâs an absolute pleasure or at least better than the gulag. I saw her crying at the bar and it was maybe two or three drinks before we were engaged to be married. Then it was up and down theboardwalk, sharing ice-cream cones and cotton candy. There have been a few hiccups, to be sure, a few misunderstandings, given the cultural divide. There was the time we were out walking and Iâd assumed the inside position, so that she was on my left. She said to me, out of nowhere, she said, Do you think I am a whore? Of course, I had no idea what was happening. We were out walking, neither of us had said anything for about a mile or so. I was probably thinking about the rest of the tournament, if I was thinking about anything at all. Iâd been knocked out shortly after Iâd eliminated my new wife. I went all in with kings and ran up against aces. This happens, thereâs nothing you can do. I said, What, to my new wife, and she said, You heard me. I said, I donât think I heard correctly, and she said, This is my fault. At this point weâd stopped walking and I had my hands on her shoulders. It felt like maybe she wanted to kick me in the groin. I asked, Do I think you are a whore? Is that what you said? She said, This is the question. After asking what the hell she was talking about, she finally explained what it means if you walk and the woman is on your left.
As if life wasnât hard enough.
My new wife holds her own at the poker table, though. Maybe sheâs too much of a gambler, but sheâs talented, dangerous. She and I havenât talked about poker too much since the wedding. I do know she isconcerned about money. Iâve heard her talking about not having any money at all, about being broke as Polish jokes, about being hungry as a child and how this can never happen again. She asks me how much money I have saved, if I own a house somewhere. I tell her I have a house in Vermont and that I might take her there sometime. She says she cannot wait for this, that she loves the mountains, so I tell her that we can go up to Vermont after we visit with my sister. She talks about rich American doctors and lawyers and how they think they can play poker. I think she thinks Iâm one of these. She says that she canât believe how lucky she is that she met me. I feel like a million dollars when she says this. I havenât said anything about being a doctor or lawyer, but Iâve decided that it doesnât matter. So far she hasnât paid for anything and Iâve decided this doesnât matter, either. Iâm not sure exactly how our lives will work once we get back to it. I imagine weâll find a place together. Iâve been living in a hotel and Iâm not sure what her situation is, where she lives, what exactly her hustle is. I know she has a hustle, they all do. I think I remember her mentioning a roommate, maybe sheâs in on it, too. They could be working girls, high-end. You canât tell. The very first thing I asked her was if I could take her home, on account of her being upset. This was before buying that first drink at the bar and falling in love.
My new wife is a marvel of Eastern European design. She has the hair and the eyes and the cheekbones that protrude three paces ahead of her and that way of walking around the world like itâs an absolute pleasure or at least better than the gulag. I saw her crying at the bar and it was maybe two or three drinks before we were engaged to be married. Then it was up and down theboardwalk, sharing ice-cream cones and cotton candy. There have been a few hiccups, to be sure, a few misunderstandings, given the cultural divide. There was the time we were out walking and Iâd assumed the inside position, so that she was on my left. She said to me, out of nowhere, she said, Do you think I am a whore? Of course, I had no idea what was happening. We were out walking, neither of us had said anything for about a mile or so. I was probably thinking about the rest of the tournament, if I was thinking about anything at all. Iâd been knocked out shortly after Iâd eliminated my new wife. I went all in with kings and ran up against aces. This happens, thereâs nothing you can do. I said, What, to my new wife, and she said, You heard me. I said, I donât think I heard correctly, and she said, This is my fault. At this point weâd stopped walking and I had my hands on her shoulders. It felt like maybe she wanted to kick me in the groin. I asked, Do I think you are a whore? Is that what you said? She said, This is the question. After asking what the hell she was talking about, she finally explained what it means if you walk and the woman is on your left.
As if life wasnât hard enough.
My new wife holds her own at the poker table, though. Maybe sheâs too much of a gambler, but sheâs talented, dangerous. She and I havenât talked about poker too much since the wedding. I do know she isconcerned about money. Iâve heard her talking about not having any money at all, about being broke as Polish jokes, about being hungry as a child and how this can never happen again. She asks me how much money I have saved, if I own a house somewhere. I tell her I have a house in Vermont and that I might take her there sometime. She says she cannot wait for this, that she loves the mountains, so I tell her that we can go up to Vermont after we visit with my sister. She talks about rich American doctors and lawyers and how they think they can play poker. I think she thinks Iâm one of these. She says that she canât believe how lucky she is that she met me. I feel like a million dollars when she says this. I havenât said anything about being a doctor or lawyer, but Iâve decided that it doesnât matter. So far she hasnât paid for anything and Iâve decided this doesnât matter, either. Iâm not sure exactly how our lives will work once we get back to it. I imagine weâll find a place together. Iâve been living in a hotel and Iâm not sure what her situation is, where she lives, what exactly her hustle is. I know she has a hustle, they all do. I think I remember her mentioning a roommate, maybe sheâs in on it, too. They could be working girls, high-end. You canât tell. The very first thing I asked her was if I could take her home, on account of her being upset. This was before buying that first drink at the bar and falling in love.
Similar Books
American Conspiracies: Lies, Lies, and More Dirty Lies That the Government Tells Us
Jesse Ventura, Dick Russell
![Wendy's Wild Wolves [Shy River Pack 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/527744/thumbs/152x264/wendys-wild-wolves-shy-river-pack-1-siren-publishing-menage-amour.png)
