Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Jen Cheated

I have never understood blogging, and I don't know if I feel differently today. I am writing this under the suggestion of a friend, lets call him Shylock. Shylock seems to think that I should let out some steam, so I will do that on the Internet.

About me: I am E.D.J. I live in Minneapolis in a studio apartment with my ex-girlfriend Jen. I am 6'1'' and weigh 200 lbs.
Yesterday, June 17th 2008, I woke up at around 11.30 am; I noticed a letter folded up under the door to our apartment. The note was folded up strangely (Right: I re-folded the note and scanned it as I founded it.) The note had the words "Dear Jen" visible. I picked up the note, curious, and set it by the counter for Jen to read. I had the day off work, and spent the next few hours reading David Gilmour's "Lost Between Houses." Every thirty minutes or so I would get up to have a drink of water or to eat a granola bar, and every time I got up I would inevitably see that yellow folded note saying "Dear Jen" in an eclectic (or maybe eccentric) hand writing and want to open the note.

After my forth detour from reading a somewhat intriguing variant on the standard "Catcher In The Rye" novel written from a Canadian perspective I decided that opening the letter was the only thing a reasonable person would do. Jen wouldn't be home for at least a few more hours and even then I doubted that she would mind me reading it; I could always say it had unfolded over time, and what else is a sensible person to do but read an already unfolded note.

I read the note:

Dear Jen,
You were amazing the other night. I have never experienced such a mindblowing woman as yourself. I cannot begin to describe the emotion I feel towards you. I hope to see you, and your appartment again soon. When will your roommate be away again?

Missing you until then,

Don xoxoxoxo

I remember my first few thoughts. "Mindblowing" should be two words. "Appartment" has one p. Did Jen cheat on me with someone with an IQ below 110? Where did she meet this 'Don?' After that, my mind started to become more angry, and more focused. When did they fuck? Did she really tell someone that she had a 'roommate?' Was that all I was to her? Did this guy not realize that there was only one bed in our minuscule studio apartment?

I confronted Jen last night. She told me that she met Don at a bar in Uptown. She told me that she was sick of me, but she didn't care about him. She told me that she didn't want to talk about it. I went out with Shylock and saw The Hulk and had a few drinks. Shylock told me that he always knew Jen was a whore, and he told me he was sorry, and he told me that I could stay with him as long as I wanted. "It's my apartment, and I'm not leaving."

I got home last night, Jen was already asleep on her side (the outside) of the bed. I grabbed a sticky note and put it on the door. "It's my apartment, and I'm not leaving." I stepped over her and laid down on the inside of the bed, next to the wall.

When I woke up this morning there was a sticky note for me on the door. I looked at it, slightly hungover, "Neither am I."

Whore.

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