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The End of the Summer Affair


Well, there goes that warm, fuzzy feeling from the 4th of July.

You know, I was feeling forced to comment on the “shocking” (sarcasm on) decision not to indict Hillary Clinton for her “extreme carelessness” with the whole email thing but then I said to myself, why, who cares what I think? The whole thing stinks, both candidates stink and the opinions of all the talking heads stink. Especially the talking heads. So why should I add my stinking opinions?! I can’t think of anything that will make me feel any better about it let alone anyone else. Especially when I have something really important to talk about today.

It is with a heavy heart that I must share that I fear she has been cheating on me. Oh, I’ve suspected it for some time, all the telltale signs were there: visiting me at odd hours then disappearing, telling me how great I am and I’m the only one – and then doing her best to crush my ego. And the oldest trick in the book; she’s no longer interested in “it.” By “it” I mean, not responding to my touch when I need her the most. The bitch!    

Golf is a demanding mistress and even more so when she has lost interest in you. Wait, what did you think I was talking about? Oh my God, no! No, but golf, on the other hand, has no morals, no scruples, no loyalties - and very few birdies. I can no longer deal with the almost total randomness of our relationship: perfect drive, duck hook in the woods; par, bogie, par, double bogey; heights of joy, bottomless despair – all in about an hour. I tell you I can’t take it anymore, one of us has got to go, it’s her or me!

I have to admit we’ve been through this before, in fact, almost every year about this time we become estranged. I don’t know, maybe we’re seeing too much of each other. Or maybe one or the other of us has become too demanding. In any event, it’s time for us to take a break from each other and just have some space for a while.

I know I will need to find something to take my mind off of her (and wondering who she is playing with today) and maybe make her jealous by taking up with a sexy, new pastime myself. Of course to make me forget her it will have to be much like her: expensive, frustrating, fickle and very time consuming. Hmmm. Wait, I know just the thing – go shopping! Head out to Mall of America every day and hit as many shops as I can, there must be like thousands of them! I can pay through the nose for things I don’t need, get bumped into, ignored, gouged and irritated - I’ll hate it. My god, it IS just like golf!  

It won’t be long though, I’m sure, and we’ll rush into each other’s arms again, share the thrill of the intimate tryst of hands and clubs and whisper sweet curses (okay, I'll whisper curses, she's not much of a talker) and we'll be happy again.

That is until the harlot runs off with my money and self-esteem again. 

Damn, how I love that woman!


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