Fall To Pieces

While sitting at the bar tonight, there came about a conversation that led me to thinking about one of my ex-girlfriends.

Assume the following: I've gotten married and have had children. An outlandish notion in and of itself, but I'll put it this way: Given that, if my ex-girlfriend called me and said she wanted me back, I'd leave my wife and kids on Christmas morning for this girl. She's got sky-blue eyes that are flecked with the copper of a new penny and once accidentally dyed her hair purple, which I thought was outstanding. She's the benchmark against which all other benchmarks are measured; a theoretical limit, if you will, like absolute zero or the speed of light, where no matter what we do to try and get close to it in a laboratory, the scientists just laugh at the results and say, "Nope."

And she's smarter than I am by leaps and bounds, able to explain the difference between the Hindu gods Ganesha, Shiva, Brahma and Vishnu without stopping to ask why you're asking, listen to Bob Seger's greatest hits, and then follow that up with watching half a season of Buffy.

Unfortunately, she's got standards higher than my own, and so I'm shit outta luck.


AIM: therbmcc71