By the Bed

"Man, why do I do this to myself?" he asked. "If hangovers were an Olympic event, I just won the gold. Man, Kelley’s going to kill me. Wait a minute, where is Kelley? Why isn’t she out here ragging me?"

Slowly he stood up, and then after standing still for several seconds to make sure he wasn’t going to fall down, he walked down the hall to the bedroom door. Looking inside he saw that the big double bed was made, and it looked like it hadn’t been slept in all night. I don’t like the looks of this, he thought. He tried to remember if Kelley’s car had been in the garage when he came home last night.

He walked through the kitchen and opened the door to the garage. "What the hell!" Not only was Kelley’s Mustang not in the garage, neither was his Toyota. Instead, there was a big maroon-colored Cadillac with a black top. As he stood there staring at it for several seconds, slowly the fog in his brain began to lift; and he started to remember the events of the previous evening.

Turning, he then saw the note on the kitchen:

Ed,

I’ve gone home to think over the things that we talked about last night. We just can’t go on like this. You need to think about it, too. Let me know what you decide. K.

About this time. He realized that his knee was throbbing almost as bad as his head. Limping over to the coffeepot he found almost a full cup of day-old coffee. Pouring it into a cup and after sixty seconds in the microwave, he limped out to the front porch and sat down looking at the town in front of him. His house was situated on a small hill; and he could see over most of the rooftops in town, all the way out to the freeway on the East Side of town.

"Man, what else can go wrong?" He had not one but two careers in the crapper. His job sucked. He was slowly going broke, and now his girl had left him.