Monday, September 25, 2006

At Long Last...Love

A dear family friend was married several days ago. This was truly momentous because Anthony had been trying to find someone to share his life for many, many...ahem...many a year. Oh, he dated, but he was truly awful at hooking up with people who were at least on the road to mental health. Oh, yeah.

There had been Camille, who reapplied makeup frequently throughout the day and added more mascara, eyeliner and lipstick before she went to sleep. Whenever Anthony and Camille would spend the weekend, I would say goodnight to Camille and good morning to a crazed raccoon. I think she would wash her face once a week. Not sure though.

Then there had been three others who lasted mere months. Stalker, Daddy's Girl, and Kleptomaniacal Lesbian. Yes, that pretty much explains everyone.

Melissa came next. She was a bit older than Anthony and had a rather colorful way of conversing. You could count on one hand the words she would utter that would belong in the category of things you could say in polite company. Though I never understood those two terms because most of my company is bloody... oh well, I digress.

Anyway, this is how a note to Anthony from an angry Melissa might look like to the naked eye:

Dear %$*+@#,

You &?$#%^! Don't even think, +&^%$%, that you will ever &*%$ me again, %$*+@#!

&*%$ you!
Melissa

As if that's not enough, Melissa would punctuate her comments with punches to my arm. Hard ones. So, it would be: Well, what do you &*^%$#@ think about that, Alice? BAM!

Finally, Natalie came along. Anthony had placed an ad in the Personals section of his local newspaper. It was titled, Take A Chance, and it was short, sweet, and charming. When he first brought Natalie to meet us, I liked her immediately. I mean, what's not to like. She didn't spackle on her makeup, she didn't dog Anthony's every step, her father was dead, she paid for things, she didn't have a girlfriend she was trying to make jealous, and she didn't like to punch.

A few of us were walking with Anthony one balmy evening; Natalie had stayed home so that she could do the dishes. She had insisted. Really, she did. So on our walk we were singing her praises to our Anthony.

FRIEND #1: So, Dude, you finally are gonna do it, eh? Marriage!
FRIEND #2: I am sooo happy for you. Natalie is great!
ALICE *dreamily*: How romantic! How ...
FRIEND #1, FRIEND #2, ANTHONY *in unison*: Magical, yeah, we know.
ALICE *irritated*: Shut up! Well, yeah, I was going to say magical. But just think, Anthony, if you hadn't taken a chance and written that ad, you wouldn't have found that someone that you wanted to...
ANTHONY: I just wanted to get laid, O.K.?

Alrighty. This did not make me to laugh, as the aged Italian great uncle of my dearly departed friend used to say. And to set the record straight, I did not kill her, even though many people heard our argument when she told me to go to hell and I answered, You first! I mean, haven't people ever heard of sticks and stones...

I will confess, however, that after Anthony' comment, I did take a page from Melissa's book of how to make friends and keep them. BAM!

Anthony was joking. I'm sure of it. Yeah.

The wedding was lovely, Anthony and Natalie looked elegant, joyful, and very much in love. Romance and magic, oh yeah. At our table, I overheard Lolly talking to someone who had been running around taking billions of pictures and now was sitting down with our little group. I was talking to a Bill on my right, so I didn't pay attention when this person sat next to me.

LOLLY: Ah! The photographer is joining us.
PERSON: &*%$ you! I'm not the photographer. I'm a veterinarian, %$$*+@#! Isn't that right, Alice?

BAM!

ALICE: Hey, Melissa. Long time no see. You haven't changed one bit.
MELISSA: &*%$, yeah, it's true, bitch.

I'm sure that there's a Mr. Right out there for our Melissa. Yeah. I'm sure of it. If anyone is interested, just email her at fuckingbossynutjob@hellonearth.com. Good luck.


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