Tuesday, August 3, 2010

It's Not Easy Being Alex

When Alex was in the Middle East at the beginning of the Iraq War, he had a dear soldier friend named Sandi.

Sandi hung out with Alex all the time. She told him all of her personal problems, (she was breaking up with her boyfriend and needed a new place to live when she came back to the States). He was just her "go to" guy.

Sandi was kind of a groupie to Alex. Not only did Alex "mentor" Sandi, but he also "mentioned" her often in his emails and phone calls.

First thing you should know about me is that I am not the jealous type. Since their deployment was coming to an end, I told Alex to invite Sandi to come and stay with us when they got back since we have this big old house and plenty of room.

Further, it would give him someone he could talk to and share his recent experiences with. Sandi would have a place to stay until she found her own apartment, and that would be nice. I stopped hearing about Sandi. Maybe Alex had just mentored out or something.

I met Sandi at Alex's Air Force retirement party last year. She was a very cute big girl, and I really can't judge how she dressed in real life because she was in uniform. I love men and women in uniform.

This was not Alex's first "kinda" girlfriend. A few years earlier, there was Bernice.

Bernice was also a big girl. (As Alex always says, “Ain’t nothing wrong with a big Papago woman”.) Okay, Bernice was not a Papago woman, but she was not petite. Before you think I'm being critical of Papago women, I assure you I am not. They are beautiful women but they tend to run to well over six feet tall and weigh in between 200 and 250 pounds on average.

Bernice worked with Alex for a number of years and apparently developed a rather close personal relationship with him. I think Alex was somewhat flattered and slightly unsure about how he should behave with her. Alex asked me if I would mind if he helped Bernice move into her new house and I told him “of course not, Honey. Help your friend." I tend to not be the jealous type as I said before.

At my request, Alex brought Bernice home for dinner several weeks after helping her move into her new home. He asked me if I would help her find a dress for the company Christmas Party. I said sure.

I thought, "Well, hell’s bells! Why not fix her up a little bit?" I’m sorry, but for my husband to have a “girlfriend” who is not nearly as stylish as me is just ridiculous!

I fed Bernice and Alex dinner and then we hit the stores. There are several stores near us that cater to the “fuller-figured woman” and at about a size eighteen, Bernice qualified as fuller-figured. As we approached one of the stores, Bernice stopped in her tracks and said, “Let’s go to Forever 21.” (Now this gal was pushing 40, if she was a day! But okay, why not?) I think "Forever 21" caters to the 17 to 22 year old crowd of girls with little taste and less money, but then I can be a little prejudiced when it comes to polyester.

By this time, Alex had the good grace to begin to look slightly uncomfortable. His girlfriend had been giving him “meaningful glances” and trying to share some "inside" jokes with him all evening. His eyes kept darting nervously between Bernice and me.

Bernice found a couple of very skimpy “cocktail” dresses in size “Large” and repaired to the dressing rooms. She came out, poured, stuffed, and oozing out of a dress and said to Alex (not me) “What do you think?”

Alex looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. He replied to Bernice, “That’s fine." "Honey", (me, Honey, not her) "What do you think?”

I said diplomatically, “Bernice, that color is lovely on you, but I think it’s pulling a little bit at the seams.”

Bernice shot me a furious look and said, “Well, Alex if you like it, this is the one I’m getting.” I smiled and nodded at them both and waved my hand slightly indicating approval or something.

Bernice went to change back into her regular clothes and Alex looked at the floor. He simply would not look up at me. Bernice paid for her purchases and we drove her home.

Oh Alex.

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