There’s Something Very Wrong with Us

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He wanted beer. I had just walked in the door from a long day at the office, and all I wanted to do was to get out of my office clothes and into my “comfies.” He’d gotten home a couple of hours, and a couple of beers, earlier. And he wanted beer for the evening. And, since he’d already been drinking, I had to drive to the liquor store.

Like any responsible woman in a relationship with an irresponsible man, I keep the debit card. So I had to go inside to by the beer. He, of course, stayed in the car to “make a call.” I’m standing in the checkout line, holding the twelve-pack of Bud Lite bottles. I’m holding it with both arms, clutched to my chest, because it’s way too heavy to hold by the little handle hole in the top of the box. The lady in front of me was just completing her purchase of a twelve-pack also. She looked at me and commented that these twelve-packs sure are heavy. I agreed and said, “And I don’t even drink alcohol. This is for my boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes and said, “I don’t drink either, and I’m buying this for my boyfriend, too!”

I looked at her, and said, “There is something VERY wrong with us!” She just gave me a sad smile, rolled her eyes, and said, “Yes, there is.” And she then left the store.


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