Once again this story is based on a photograph sent to me by the lovely and talented Marieta Tsenova This is the sixth male portrait that I've based my "fictions" on and six female portraits are to follow.
Stay tuned but most of all enjoy...
SOMETHING TO WRITE HOME ABOUT
It was a mix up, pure and simple. One of the purist, simplest, most fucked up mix ups that has ever happened to anyone on this planet.
My girlfriend loves to write letters to loved ones. She writes and writes and writes and writes for hours on end. Everyday she'll sit down at her desk and compose her feelings with her beautiful words. She's gifted that way.
Me on the other hand, I've got a gift for royally fucking things up.
I had it all worked out: a specially made desk and chair which would be delivered to a meadow in the country that we sometimes go to for walks. It's just past the black abattoir on route 13 but it's still a beautiful place.
I wanted to express just how big my love was for her I figured the size of the landscape would get that across. I wanted to get her a writing desk that was perfect for her. I wanted to give her something to write home about. I joke with that expression all the time with her. Everything is something to write home about with her, but I really wanted to give her something that she could write home volumes about.
Her parents live halfway around the planet. They're the home that she's writing to all the time.
So a couple weeks ago this guy at a furniture shop takes all of my specifications down over the phone but there was a lot of static through most of the conversation. I kept saying how big the setting was and how wonderful it would be. I guess he figured I was a lunatic. I didn't catch the total price and I gave him my visa number and everything. I suppose I am a lunatic.
When we drove up to the monster chair and table I was completely floored. Denise started crying and then screaming and oh god it was like we were at a drive in and Godzilla was stepping out from the screen and into our world to crush us.
"I feel like a rodent. This is how rats must feel at the bottom of tables," she screamed.
The sun was eclipsed by the table top and it was a little chilly in the shade. The view of the sky was blocked.
Denise has this phobia of big things. I once suggested a photography trip across Canada to document large sized items across the country. You know, the largest hockey stick, the biggest easter egg, the tallest building, etc. To this day I have never seen such a look of horror on someone's face. She just really hates big things.
What a fuck-up !!
I wanted to propose to her and then suggest that she write home about it. I wanted to have her sit on my lap as she wrote a letter to her parents that we were tying the knot. I had it all planned out perfectly. The most fucked up plans of mice and men.
I got out of the car because I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. That's when she jumped into the driver's seat and took off.
Fuck, what the hell do I do now ?