My Life as an Idiot

All Trilogies Stink (Except the Ones that Don't)

In Shakespeare’s Caesar, the title character was warned about the Ides of March, only to still fall victim to the stabbing of his closest friend and ally. On a relative scale, my Ides were slightly worse than that.

Before I made an ass out of myself and discovered that my inaction had cost me the only thing I hoped my action would achieve (how’s that for ambiguity – hope this isn’t your first time here, cause I refuse to further elaborate on the origin of this ordinary pain (look up the Stevie Wonder reference there) any further), I planned another Movie Night. Movie Night 1, good times. Movie Night II, like most sequels, was disappointing, and some cast members wanted larger contracts to appear (which were denied due to the producers wanting to purchase more beer). Movie Night III, excellent. Missing cast members, humbled by their lack of work, returned for beer, pizza, crepes, and average to below average banter with average to below average company. The first trilogy was complete.

We believed that we had mastered the elements which would contribute to the next event being another success. Clearly, like most Greek tragedy, our hubris was our undoing. We attempted to steal the same blueprint for IV as for III, believed that we could get the whole crew together.

Before I go further, it is my duty to explain that Movie Night is really just an elaborate excuse to see the girl outside of work, hopefully with these events somehow contributing to her finally coming to the obvious realization that her life could not possibly be complete without pinching my ass and being with me, for oh, however long this Earth lasts.

So when she failed to show (as I expected after the previous events), I was not surprised. But that stupid shred of hope left was diced, cubed, and prepared as hors d’oeuvres for our other guests. Pre-my idiocy, she had agreed to show. Post-idiocy, she was nowhere to be found, and gave no indication why she decided not to attend. Which filled my head with all sorts of fantastic reasons. The list:

1) I’m a stupid ass-fuck with nary a shred of personality, and no lady in her right mind would ever want to spend any time with me.

That’s pretty much it. Pretty sure it’s right.

posted by The Idiot @ 11:54 PM