Sunday, 25 August 2013

Take these vows and shove 'em

There's a standard piece of fine print in the marriage vows that many people should consider carefully before pressing the verbal "send button".
I'm talking, of course, about the "for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health" part.
It's true, a few people hit the jackpot and get the "better, richer, health" part.
But I also know many more who get the low hanging fruit that is marriage.
Like the woman whose husband is the town drunk and falls down, hitting his head, causing it to blow up and sending him to hospital for surgery to remove half his brain. And the fucker is still walking around causing trouble and she had to move out of town.
Or the woman who marries a doctor and got several mistresses in tow. Or the other who marries a guy with a great job who loses it and becomes a professional video gamer while she raises the kids and brings in the dough.
Men also get the bad end of the carrot. They marry the prom queen and bring home a harpy.
They fall in love with a size 6 and find themselves living with a six pack.
Marriage is crap shoot.
My friend Doris is a good example. When she married Bob, he had a good high paying government job while she toiled away in the secretarial pool. Doris worked her way up to executive secretary and then found herself posted to Washington. Bob quit his job and played golf for three years.
When they returned home, Bob couldn't get a job because the only reason he had kept the government job in the first instance was because of the union. The Queen was more than happy to turn down his request for employment and so Bob spent the next 20 years drinking at the local pub while Doris worked two jobs.
Then Bob got sick, nearly died three years ago and Doris has been hauling his ass from hospital to doctor, week after week, making his three egg omelettes and trying not to drown herself in a tub of Smirnoffs.
Last week, Bob went for the high jump again and poor Doris and I were making funeral plans. You could actually see the light come back into her eyes at the thought that Bob might actually be getting the gold watch and going off to become the Duffer in the Sky.
Nuh, uh. After two blood transfusions, Bob was back at it, out of the hospital looking like he could limp a marathon. You can't kill the fucker.
He'll be sticking around to use Doris' retirement fund to buy that Mustang he's always wanted.
If Karma is real, Bob will come back as a slug and Doris will come back as a Disney Princess.
Meanwhile, she continues to live on the ferris wheel of shit and think to herself, "take those vows and shove them".

 

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