Why is it women always think you’re after their man?
I’ll bet even Quasi Modo’s wife thought the world was after Quasi. You could just hear Mrs. Modo as she’s scrubbing his hump. First that whore Esmeralda and now you. You do know what they say about a man with a sizable hump don’t you?
What brought all this up?
A woman named Gert. First of all, change your name to something that doesn’t rhyme with dirt…then get hold of yourself. She told Trudy, my gossip of a neighbor, that she saw me flirting with her husband. When Trudy couldn’t wait to tell me, my response was…
“Who the fuck’s her husband?”
“Giovanni, the handyman at 11 East 82nd.”
“Are you kidding? I asked him to fix my faucet is all,” I said to Louella, I mean Trudy.
“Well she found out.”
“About what..the washer my bathroom sink needs?”
“He is cute Susannah. Can’t say I blame you.”
“Excuse me? I do not have any interest in Giovanni with the exception of a tool or two.”
“It depends what tool we’re talking about.” Boy, was I getting pissed. I decided to leave before I hit her with my umbrella.
I called Camille to complain. “This is just the sort of thing Camille that ruins a girl’s reputation.”
“Face it Susannah, your reputation was ruined long ago.”
“Camille, I’m serious. How could this woman actually think that and Trudy…does she really believe I’m bonking the handyman?”
“No, but it’s her way of putting you down. I mean if we were taking about some French actor or investment banker, she’d be in awe.”
“Ugh,” I moaned before slamming the phone done. I know, I’m just taking my angry self over there to set the record straight.
Ring Ring Ring, jangled my cell phone.
“Don’t do it,” screamed Camille on the other end.
“Take your skinny ass over there for a showdown.”
What is she, clairvoyant?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“HELL-LO…IT’S ME YOU’RE TALKING TO.”
“Stop yelling, alright, but why not go over and tell this crazy woman I’m not interested in her damned husband.”
“Because she’s crazy…and what we do around crazy people? Come on…what’s the rule?”
“We ignore them.”
“But what about my leaky faucet?”
“Have one word for ya girlfriend…GOOGLE….call a plumber.”
Women, we’re all nuts.