My girl friend broke up with me because I'm unemployed. She left me for a man that has not one but two pensions -- one as a retired police officer and the second for being a shop teacher. All this information was conveyed to me while we were lying together in bed. Talk about feeling inadequate! I guess the pension today is the new gold standard.
The problem is I'm so sad -- even "despondent" -- don't you love that word? My friends, however, don't really care what I'm feeling. But I know what they are thinking ... that at age fifty-eight I should be more concerned about my colon than my heart.
But I am heartbroken. Still, when my friends look at me, they don't see a vibrant man. They see someone who is no longer viable. Someone who should be rejected -- even by Viagra. To them, I'm just a "Dead Man Walking." Hunched over and not even erect.
The men at my health club -- at least the guys my age -- are talking about their prostate and pensions. But I don't have one so I changed the subject and told them that I lost my love and my soul mate.
Only one guy sympathized with me: "Let me guess -- to cancer?"
No comments:
Post a Comment