THE MOST PISSED I EVER GOT AT MY WIFE

MP3 DOWNLOAD OF THE DAY: Bruce Springsteen or Holly Cole's "Jersey Girl"

I told ya about our wedding twelve years ago today. Many of you fell asleep and woke up in a pool of drool while reading that entry.

I apologize. For some strange reason, I thought that the fact that a trombone hit my windshield was funny enough for a whole entry.

I was apparently wrong.

*cough*

Hey...those of you wanting laughs a'plenty during this entry may be disappointed too.

Because I'm going to tell you about the most pissed I've ever gotten at my wife.

Keep in mind...I did marry a good woman. We don't fight ... she lets me lead my life, I let her lead hers. After 12 years of marriage and being together for 14, we've learned enough about each other to know what lines can and cannot be crossed.

But about four years into the marriage...she wasn't FULLY AWARE of what lines to NOT cross.

One of those is humiliating me in front of a roomful of people.

Alright...summer, 1992....I CAN LAUGH ABOUT THIS NOW so don't feel uncomfortable while reading.

Susie was the assistant manager at our Chili's restaurant in town. She had to organize a summer pool party so she picked a local apartment complex's clubhouse to hold the party.

She asked me to deejay the party and I said sure.

About 9 p.m. the party is going strong. Everyone's drunk and dancing or swimming and goofing off. Just a great time.

The police show up and ask to see who's in charge here.

Susie talks to them.

Apparently there were complaints about the noise. They asked us to either turn the music down or turn it off and to get everyone inside...no more hanging out by the pool.

This was...like I said 9 p.m....Susie had been there since 10 a.m. and the party had been going since noon.

Basically it was Susie's call and she decided to shut the music off completely. She was exhausted, sunburnt, sober and PMSing.

Everyone drunkenly booed at her.

And leave it to my drunk ass to challenge her on a decision in front of the people she supervises.

On the microphone, no less.

"Oh c'mon Suze...I'll turn it down and we can keep partying..."

A) She knows me. She KNOWS I can't keep it turned down for long. Hell...as I type this I have the stereo in the den blasting out the Sex Pistols.

B) You realllllly don't want to challenge my wife in front of her employees.

She turned around towards me from across the room and yelled directly at me:

"It's not your fucking drunk ass that's responsible for this fucking party!!!"

Yikes.

The crowd of 50+ people got reeeeal quiet.

Deadly quiet.

I took the high road in the squabble. I smiled the darkest smile I've ever wretched out of my soul and said "Fine ... I'm gone."

I packed everything in my car and hauled ass, leaving her and her car behind at the party.

I drove home, the entire time thinking I was going to leave her.

I went home and threw a number of items in a bag.

My two-year-old puppy watched me and didn't know what to think of her pops acting all angry.

I sat down and wrote a quick letter ...roughly a quarter of my average diary entry... explaining that I had left and would get in contact with her in a few days.

I planned on getting a hotel room at the local Days Inn and just holing up there until I felt like apologizing to my wife.

My puppy just stared at me...desperately wanting to know what was going on.

I left the letter on the table and stared at my dog.

The dog that I fed because Susie never thought to feed her.

The dog I walked because Susie never felt like walking.

The dog I couldn't take to a hotel with me.

So. I sat down with my dog.

I couldn't leave because of the dog.

Susie came home and read the letter. She had been crying for a while on the way home. I told her I didn't want to sleep with her and didn't know when IF EVER I would want to sleep in the same bed with her again.

I slept in the guest room that night. I listened to her sob in the room next door.

The next day she had written me a five page letter apologizing to me over the "fight".

It took me a couple of days to get over it completely.

Don't ask why...but yelling at me in public is just the most embarrassing thing in the world to me and it's the one thing I won't take.

I mean...yelling in fun...yeah sure. But if you reprimand me or whatever...RUN!!

Well...that's really only geared toward my wife.

Who doesn't even read this garbage.

Anyway...as you can see...we never really fight. I went through a period a few years ago which can best be described as a "mid-life crisis". I'm past it now and am the happiest I think I'll ever be in my life. Every night I go to bed and can't imagine tomorrow being any better than today...but it always is.

Jesus. I'm starting to sound like fuckin' Peter Pan over here.

(Bob slaps himself harshly to snap out of it)

Alright...she just called...we're going out to celebrate our anniversary.

I guess that means I gotta shave.

...my crotch...

That one was for Jaime...my new cyber-love.

Heh.

Alright kids...have a good evening. Don't make me come up here and spank you. PLAY NICE!

I may be gettin' me some pregnant nookie tonite...whoohoooo!!