Wannabe Drama Queen...

Quick backdrop: If you played the word game correctly, some of y’all noticed a ring on my wedding finger.  Not an engagement ring, rather like a place card at your shitty, mandatory Christmas party showing what dickhole you’ll be stuck sitting next to all night.  Well, that’s what this ring is – kinda holding a place for now – cop gave to me fairly recently.

Tuesday the Giants won (great news!), and combined with me having a crime scene in my pants (yucky news!), cop and I had a major-league fight of unprecedented proportions – and that’s plain sad news...  But he’s never really seen this kitten’s claws, and for everything he threw at me, I screamed, gritted my teeth, squinted my eyes hard and furiously and shredded him like a stray dog through a wood chipper.  But I KNOW in the back of his mind what he was thinking: “She’s not crying, uh oh…”  Not one tear and either intimidated or scared him I'm certain.

I grab my purse heading for the door, but I have to do it with some drama.  And shut your mouth, I’m the one practically blowing a fuse through my tampon, so I will damn well leave any way I want.  And I’m going to rip off this ring and chuck it at his head with such force Jacque Kennedy herself will emerge from the grave to pick up pieces of his head scattered “back and to the left”.  So I took a step towards the door, he says “Karyn, don’t…”, and I spun around DARING him to come closer.

“Just go fuck...” I start to scream and rip off ring.  Nada, it’s not budging.  Try to get a tighter grip and give a hard yank again.  “You need to just go fuck your…”  Hard tug only pops my knuckle.  Oh Christ, I have to get it this time, or I’ll I swear I'm going to start laughing and cause drama-interruptus,  “Why don’t you go fuck yourself!!!” and with a final pull I manage to free my personal Excalibur of a ring from it’s stone talon.  Collected in hand, took aim and sidearmed it like a Kent Tekulve fastball, wizzing it past his head and down the hall somewhere to hopefully imbed itself in the wall or something dramatic like that.  Drama finally accomplished, but I’m not near done yet…

Reach for the door one-handed – point in his direction and screamed, “And don’t you fucking think of calling ME…”  Gonna time this ending of “EVER AGAIN!” perfectly with the door slam, right?  God help me, the damn door was locked, so not only was drama lost, practically dislocated my shoulder in the process.  Unlock, repeat, SLAM!!!  “Oh, that was good K” was all I could think.  Stomped especially loudly down steps, fumbling for keys while talking to myself like Amanda Bynes in…  well, anywhere.

Approaching Jeep anticipating revving and screech out parking lot, but within a few steps of car door, realize I left keys in the little bowl we keep our keys in – wow, drama squished…  Lean head against window and start crying.  Walked to hidden dark side-street, called roomies to drive to SF to get me, and just sobbed.

So maybe drama isn’t my thing – I tried...

K