Sunday, April 4, 2010
Quick! In the Closet!
I have on occasion had to hide men in my closet.
This little transgression of mine came about a few times in my single days. For some reason, when I was in love, (really, truly, and madly in love and that happened a lot), I would give the object of my affections my apartment key. All of my boyfriends knew for sure that this indicated my complete and utter loyalty to them.
I did have a little problem in the loyalty area. Now don't get me wrong, I was loyal all right. But sometimes lonesome won out over loyal, you understand I'm sure. For a whole weekend I was supposed to stay home and not entertain guests? I don't think so! And if the "guest" happened to be that handsome fireman, or the insurance guy, or the plumber, well, who knows!
On at least three occasions, I had to request that my guest get into the closet and fast. (Why would I screw up a perfectly good relationship with all those stupid questions and explanations, I ask you.) So obviously, the closet was the only realistic solution.
After my would-be suitor was safely hidden in the closet, I would make a big deal out of "let's go down to the corner coffee shop because I'm dying for a piece of apple pie!" and we would vacate the premises. This always gave my visitor ample time to get out.
Before you start feeling too sorry for my beloved boyfriends, let me assure you, none of them were really worth your pity. They had left me alone for too long a time. Not a good idea!
And before you dial the number for CPS, my kids were with their dad on weekends. I merely wanted to not waste my life sitting home alone without kids waiting for my true love to reappear after his weekend with: the guys, the children, the sports teams, the hunt, or the chickadee that he may have had on the side.
Besides, my closet was a lovely place with at least a hundred pairs of shoes. If my visitor got bored, he could always try those on.