Kick in the Gut to Last Tango in Sacto

Where's My Keeper?

 

What you are about to read is a true story that I told at the TrueStory open mic night on April 23, 2015, in downtown Sacramento. I was so nervous, I chugged two glasses of water and then had to pee like a race horse. No one booed me off the stage, and some laughed and clapped. So I guess I did okay. Here goes.

     After 25 years of marriage, three houses, and two kids, the love of my life decided that he just didn't love me back.

     So we went our separate ways. I was pretty miserable, and I thought he was, too, until not long thereafter and before the ink was dry on the divorce papers, I got a call from him. He had news for me.

     "I'm getting married," he said. "I've fallen in love, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

     I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut! Rejected! Tossed like yesterday's trash! I wanted to yell, "Die, Fucker, die!" But I smiled and replied, "Oh. Kay. So. Congratulations."

     I have to admit that while my ex had been searching for Mrs. Right, I hadn't exactly been walking around in sack cloth and ashes. I wanted to meet someone, too, but I just couldn't find a keeper.

     One guy couldn't seem to remember if his name was Phil or Randy. Not a keeper.

     Another one confessed that he'd had every single hair on his body removed by means of electrolysis. Not a keeper.

     And there was the accountant who phoned me to say that I was too boring for him. Definitely not a keeper.

     I was about to give up when I met a nice, nearly normal, nice guy. We started going out. He loved music, live music. We went to a lot of concerts: jazz, Latin, blues, rock, you name it. At these events, people would always get up and dance.  "We want to do that, too." we thought. "We want to dance."

     The two of us signed up for group dance lessons. The first night, while waiting in the studio, I glanced at the registration table and then immediately turned back. "Don't look now," My voice was low. "But there's my ex-husband and his lovely fiance." They must have been there to practice their first dance as husband and wife. Oh, God.

     In my mind, this could only go one of two ways: 1. During the group lesson, the instructor shouts, "Everyone change partners!" and I end up in an unwanted tango embrace with my ex. Or 2. I flee the building immediately.

     "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. What're we going to do?" I was panicked.

     Without so much as a peek at the registration table, my nice, nearly normal, nice guy replied," I don't know about them, but I' came with you to dance with you, and that's what we're going to do."

     I'd found my keeper.