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Sunday, September 24, 2006

Oh God, what have I done?

The morning after the intervention, I agreed to join Toby on her power walk. I was wearing a very attractive sport suit in fire engine red. Toby looked uncharacteristically dumpy in a lavender purple sweat suit. We were in my kitchen, carbo-loading, when my telephone said, "Ring! Ring!" I answered it with my trademark greeting--"This is Mary Worth, how can I help you?" Because I help everyone, sooner or later.

It was a police officer on the phone. He said to me, "Mary Worth, we have a bit of a problem here. Do you know someone named Aldo Kelrast?"

I said, "Umm, yes, officer...he was in my apartment last night." I sounded guilty because I feel terrible about the way we treated my poor Aldo. But I'm afraid the officer thought my words and tone made it sound like we had been in my apartment alone, making hot monkey love!

I was about to correct myself when the officer said, "After he left your apartment, did you know he got in his car and drove away?"

I answered, "No, I didn't see him drive away. I got into the shower after he left, and after that, I had to do a load of bed sheets. I didn't have time to be looking out of windows." Then I cursed my words. Surely now he thinks I was cleaning up the effluvia left behind by an evening of hard, pounding vaginal intercourse!

Then the officer told me, "We found the wreckage of a car just off a cliff on the Santa Royale Scenic Highway. There was a man inside. The car had a Charterstone parking sticker on the windshield, which we could just make out amidst all the splattered blood and gore. Since he's from Charterstone, we figured we should contact you before we try to find his relatives and all that other business. Sounds like I made the right move, considering your...special relationship with him. I'm sorry, Mrs. Worth. Aldo sustained very grave injuries..."

I barely heard what he said next. I heard someone screaming, "What? Oh, no no no!" And, as my world faded into black and ecru hues, I realized that the person screaming was me.

The officer asked if he could come over to discuss the matter further. I agreed that he could, but I felt like a robot. I was numb and hollow inside. As I hung up the phone, Toby asked me what was wrong. And I had to tell her the truth--that my Aldo, my beloved Aldo, the man who wanted me more than life itself...that he's...he's...

I flung myself into Toby's arms, my whole being wracked with the agony of true love lost.

3 Comments:

Anonymous the real victoria "toby" cameron said...

Oh, Mary, I should have known that the bumper sticker I read the other day was foreshadowing Aldo's accident! It said; "Man's inner life's a mystery, and if drinking's involved, his outer life's history!"

How could I not have known????? I mean, most bumper stickers say things like "no fat chicks" or "I brake for unicorns." Or they even have those cute little pictures of Calvin peeing on a Chevy logo. But I digress.

Sentences this pompous could only be a sign of impending doom! (Although it did cross my mind that it might be something my beloved Ian had thought up between lectures and interventions.)

Perhaps if I had said something to you instead of remaining in my boudoir brushing my flowing golden locks, Aldo would be staggering back through your door, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath and a twinkle of carnal desire in his eyes!

7:29 PM  
Anonymous Ian Cameron, PhD said...

Dear Mary,

You'll have to excuse Toby's recent outbursts and slipshod personal appearance - she was recently diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, and often doesn't seem to know quite what she's saying, as you may have observed. The diagnosis was made by a psychiatrist friend of Dr. Cory's, just as one of her personalities began to claim that he was molesting her loathsomely at each visit. In retrospect, the signs were all there.

Anyway, not to be a pest, but I was just wondering when you could get around to reimbursing me for that Bombay Sapphire I picked up for you the other day at Wines Liquors. At 12 bottles per case that comes to $791.76 plus tax.

Perhaps this is an awkward time to bring this up, but it's just that Toby recently bought three new velour tracksuits in fuchsia, mauve, and aquamarine, and now our Diner's Club card is maxed out. To be fair, it has been over a week, and yet virtually nothing has happened at Charterstone so you can't have been busy. Please let me know. I would hate to go back to that part-time job teaching SAT prep courses. Dud Ford is shift supervisor there and he always looks at me so goddamned smug.

Sincerely,

Ian Cameron, Ph.D.
Dean R. Koontz Chair of English Literature
University of California at Santa Royale

P.S. Oh, and terribly sorry about Kelrast; but a miscreant is as a miscreant does, as I always say! Chin up! Pip, pip!

7:42 PM  
Anonymous the real victoria "toby" cameron said...

Oh, Mary! Aldo can't really be dead! He had everything to live for! I mean, well, he must have had some friends...someplace... or at least some nodding acquaintances. Or maybe his cousin, Hal Kane, whose condo he was using was fond of him. I'm sure that the guy at the liquor store must have given him a kind word, at least.

Try not to blame yourself, Mary. I'm sure that your blatant rejection had nothing to do with his drunken flight from Charterstone.

And pay no attention to Ian's comment about "miscreants." It's just his way of covering up his more sensitive side. At least that's what he tells me after he makes me cry by calling me a "brainless piece of @$$" and roughing me up a bit.

9:50 PM  

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