For the Ladies ...

I was in line ordering a sandwich.  Behind me was a table with four females ... all in their early to mid-twenties.  They were giggling, having a grand time telling tales.  And then one told this one. 

"So get this: Ron [I don't remember his name, but Ron seems about right] was out in the living room drinking with Brandon and Tia last night.  He comes into the bedroom about three-thirty drunk and tells me he's going to the store.  I say, 'You're drunk.'  He starts bitching and leaves.  Later he comes back in, bends over by the bed and farts in my face three times [I must stress at this point that I am not kidding -- her friends, by the way, are laughing]!  [She then makes the standard flatuent sounds like you hear in the movies.]  Three times!  I told him to knock it off, and he just laughed at me.  He gets into bed and keeps doing it!  [The friends are really laughing now.]  And then I feel something weird on my hand.  He shit the bed!  [Guffaws all around.  Not sure why.  It's digusting.]  It's on the blankets, my hand, and then somehow it gets in my hair.  I tell him he shit the bed, and he laughs some more.  So I get out and show him the sheets with shit all over them, and he keeps laughing.  When I tell him I'm sleeping in the other room he just says, 'I'm sorry, baby.'"

Okay, ladies, if this seems normal to you, or if you don't see much wrong this picture, let me state something: You are setting your standards too low.  This is not normal behavior.  This is not acceptable behavior.  Why this woman didn't flip after her "man" passes gas in her face three times is beyond me.  I would've stabbed him.  No joke.  Stabbed.  In the stomach.  Deep.  Why she doesn't kick him out when he defecates in their bed is also beyond me.  I can buy that she may have been tired at first for his inital assault, but shitting the bed?  No.  At that point the wind-breaking, bed-shitting motherfucker would have been out on his ass, and he wouldn't be coming back.  Why was this accepted?  Because he was drunk?  So what?  You know who can crap the bed and get away with it?  Babies.  Really old people.  Sick people.  That's it.  Drunks aren't covered.  And if you do something like that and laugh?  Jesus.  What is wrong with this woman?

She's not partners with a man.  She's partners with a three-year-old in a man's body.  Only a kid would do that sort of thing and think it's funny.  Why didn't her friends say, "Wait.  Why are you still with this dumb waste of flesh?"  Is it because they would accept that sort of thing, too?  Maybe.  I don't know.  They were laughing as if they had all experienced it before.

I've had great relationships, and I have had not-so-great ones.  In none of those did anything like this ever happen.  Drunk or not.  I don't find bodily noises all that amusing (unless, of course, it's the gurging that accompanies the slit throat of a bed-shitter), and expelling solid (or liquid) waste where I sleep is not even an option.  Listening to her tell her story it seemed that the only thing surprising to her was that this happened on a Saturday morning instead of a Sunday morning.  How pathetic is that?

When I looked to see who this pathetic woman was, I was horrified.  I had had conversations with her in the past at her job (which is food service, incidentally -- hope she washes the shit off herself before he next shift), and while she has never seemed all that intellectual, she never came across as that bad.  I had to wonder what a guy would have to do to get her really upset?  Urinate in her corn flakes?  Once you shit the bed, the sky is really the limit, isn't it?

To all the ladies reading this, please listen to me.  If you have a man like this in your life -- leave him!  That relationship is never going to get better.  He will not suddenly mature.  He's not going to wake up one day (preferably in a clean bed) and think, "You know, breaking wind in my girl's face is rather rude.  So is shitting the bed.  I think I'll stop."  You have a better chance of hitting the lottery than you do of that happening.

Believe me, you can do better.  And if not ... well, a life full of solo dinners and masturbation is far better than a life with a guy like that.

No comments: