Boring

Boring My Ass.

She said I was boring.

I whined at my beer. I know the expression was "cryin in my beer," but I wasn't crying. I saw no reason to cry. I felt bad, no doubt, but it wasn't like I should mourn anything. A guy has no need to mourn a woman leaving him. Why cry when you can just replace her? Every day I hear women complaining about the lack of good men. Funny how often I've heard "all the good ones are either taken or gay." Meanwhile, my guy friends are lamenting the lack of women who can stick to their promises. Lot of guys around have been burned badly in divorces. Something is wrong there. I guess folks just don't see how good they really have it. It is wonderful to spend years with a partner, and get to know every little like and every little quirk about your lover.

No I didn't lament her wanting something else, or even someone else. I lamented her calling me boring. I think she made me boring just to dump me for it! That's misleading. She hasn't quite dumped me. She just told me she was going to date someone else because I was boring.

When I was younger, I loved adventure. I kayaked with my friends around the islands off the coast and in white water streams up in the mountains. Once I bypassed the island day trips in favor of a nice long paddle to Long Island, 12 miles away. All I heard about was how it was too far to do safely. Funny, I did it several times without a problem. I liked to go over, camp on the beach of a state park, then paddle back the next day. This was not the behavior of a husband and father in Karen's eyes. My family depended on me, and I shouldn't take needless risks. Gone too were back country skiing, my motorcycle, my little Triumph Spitfire, scuba diving, mountain biking and rock climbing. So being the good dad that I was, I started skiing carefully groomed slopes (not too steep mind you), I put my dirt bike and Triumph into storage, traded my soft tail mountain bike in for a road bike, and joined a gym with a climbing wall. I drove a mini-van. Yeah, a mini-van. With faux wood grain siding. Yeah, I know, but I loved her, so fuck you.

After she tamed my recreation, next came the demands on my job. She didn't like my traveling. Most trips were for a day or two to negotiate deals. Occasionally I had to travel to London or Hong Kong or...you name it. I was good at swinging deals that either yielded a solid acquisition or alucrative sale for my company. She hated the international trips, as they often lasted a couple of weeks. They always came with a nice bonus attached, so they were really good for our financial situation, but she hated me being gone. When I was made a partner, overnight travel decreased dramatically. I could fly in to most domestic destinations, close the deal, and get home on the red eye. However it took years for me to shave down the international trips.

It was a catch 22. Travel a lot, make a lot of money, become a senior partner, train and manage negotiating teams to close deals for you. Pass on the travel, let someone else take the trips and bring home the booty, watch them pass you on the corporate ladder. No. No one was going to pass me for any reason.

I played it smart. I managed to combine reasons to travel, so one trip could result in multiple kudos for my chase for partnership. I was the first in my company to embrace teleconferencing for doing the leg work. I was careful to charter small jets for my teams so we could maximize our time on the ground. It cost me some good chunks out of my bonuses, but it was worth it in the long run. I climbed that ladder, Karen was happier, and everybody was safe.

But damn it, I was bored! I gave everything up to conform to her priorities, and I'm bo-RING. W. T. F.! So fuck her, I thought. Let her go find whatever excitement she's looking for. In the meantime, I'm gonna go back to the me I liked so much way back when. The me that had fun doing my thing. The me that defied gravity flying off a muddy slope in a weekend of motorcross. The me that hopped on a helicopter to find fresh powder on a back country slope that took all day to ski down. The me that went back to that same slope in the summer and climbed back up.

She expected me to stay home and wait for her. Remember that safety thing? Well I was supposed to be on call to come help her if she got in trouble on her date. Seriously. Twenty five years of marriage following four years of friendship and dating in school, and all that time I thought she was smart. Well she wasn't. I didn't agree to this shit. I wasn't going to be home for her, either on call or waiting up when she came home. Talk about boring!! All bets were off. All vows were off. Along with "forsaking all others" went "Love, honor, cherish and obey." Well, she refused that last one, and now I know why. Boring wouldn't matter if obey was in the mix.

So I came home from work, changed to jeans and a sport shirt while she was showering, and was digging out my old boots when she came out of the shower. She always liked me in boots. Riding boots, hiking boots, western boots, dress boots, it didn't matter. But they all went out the window when I transfigured into safe me. I should say boring me, after all I've now been re-defined. I knew I looked good in the boots though. They fit as well as ever, everything did. I had gained weight in those 25 years, but it was all upper body muscle. So I knew those boots looked even better now that I had shoulders and a man's chest. A dab of after shave and a great sport coat and there was no doubt I wasn't waiting up for her. She wasn't pleased.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Dressed like that?"

"Who said boring couldn't have class?"

I was out the door before she could answer, and on the way to my weekend. The mini van started right up, and its big 4 cylinder engine roared to life. Maybe it purred to life. Alright, I can't fool you. The mini van sputtered and knocked its way into action. To its credit, it had sputtered up the driveway and turned towards town before Karen could get something on, and I smirked as I saw her pop out of the front door in her robe. It wasn't long before my cell phone rang, and I let it go to voice mail. I had prepared a new message just for the occasion.

"Hi, this is Dale. I'm unable to come to the phone tonight, because I'm either busy driving or being boring. If you need excitement, call my wife Karen at 555-4269. She'll be happy to talk about me. Otherwise leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. But don't be surprised if that isn't real soon! Maybe Monday. Ciao!"

First stop, get rid of this piece of shit van. I was sick of driving something with faux wood siding. I needed something rugged, yet elegant. I'd settle for something with real wood siding even, like an old Willys wagon. It'd look really good with a surfboard on top, right? I couldn't find the right combination, or and old Willys Woody. I like writing that now that I'm free from that old fucking boring-making, spirit-killing ball and chain. Oh that felt good to say. So nothing that felt both elegant and rigged used to mean give up. Boring me would have stashed the checkbook from the money market account we used to save and gone home. No ducking way I was going home. I bought one of each. I bought a rugged car and an elegant car. The Mercedes dealer was happy to set me up with a spiffy convertible. Tres elegant mes amis. Nothing is more elegant than a guy who drives a Mercedes convertible and knows how to say "very elegant my friends" in French. I know, I missed the accents, but I don't care. I'm no longer boring and looking them up would have been...wait for it...you know it's coming...Boring!!

The dealer also had a great big-assed Jeep in his used car inventory, complete with mean-assed lifters, fat assed knobby tires, bright-assed fog lights and an awesome loud-assed train horn in addition to a dozen other after market improvements. I drove off in the Jeep with the convertible being delivered to my home, and locked up in the driveway Sunday morning. Boring my ass. The "me" I was was never about boring. The "me" she created was a terrible fucking drag. That did was history, repressed back onto his hole while I went out looking for my first dose of adrenaline

I bought a trailer, and drove home. Not to the home I shared with my wife, back to Mom's house. Hadn't seen Mom in a couple of months. It was time. The three hour drive was great as I got reacquainted with driving something with some testosterone under the hood. Mom was thrilled, and had my favorite lasagne waiting. She didn't ask why I was there, or why Karen didn't come too, but she knew something was wrong. She always could read me.

The next morning, I went out to the shed and took out my old Spitfire. I had stored it there all these years. My brother had driven it every so often for me to keep it road worthy. I wasn't so lucky with the dirt bike, but I didn't need to start it to load it on the trailer. By lunch time I had the bike and the car on my trailer rig, and a smile on Mom's face.

"So are you going to tell me about it?"

I smiled too.

"About what Mom?"

"Twenty five years of living your life Karen's way. You raised three kids while burying my son in mini vans and bunny slopes. Suddenly, you come to visit without your wife, driving a beast of a truck, wanting your sports car and your motorcycle, and wearing those fine looking boots."

Like I said, Mom could read me like a book. I explained Karen's recent battle with insanity.

"Baby, that girl may be crazy. But you should thank her. Honey, she set you free."

Mom was right. Mom was always right. That evening I turned my phone back on. Karen and the kids had been calling and texting all day. I put the kids into a text group, and responded.

Me: I'm fine. I'm at Grandma's. Your Mom and I aren't seeing eye to eye about something, and I decided I needed to think. So I went to visit.

Ali: Dad, Mom is frantic. She says you disappeared and she doesn't know why.

Me: I'm not going to lie, and I'm not going to say why. It's not my place to explain it to you. All I'll say is your Mom decided I am boring, so I'm doing something about it. She can tell you what she is doing.

Jenny: Daddy, that isn't like Mommy. She always plays things safe. She would never do something to threaten you or our family. You should get home and make things right.

Me: Thanks dear, for your faith in me. Before you crucify me for this little episode, why don't you get the truth out of your Mom.

Daniel: Dad we aren't blaming anyone. We just want you to know we love you both, and just want the best.

Me: Thanks son. Let me know when you've talked to your mother.

I spent the night with Mom laughing at a cheesy old movie, and was about to turn in when my text alert dinged.

Jenny: I'm sorry daddy. I can't believe Mommy went out with another man.

Me: I know sweety.

Jenny: what are you going to do?

Me: I'm going to live my life, like always. I'm just not going to worry about your Mom's rules for living, because if they really mattered, she would have followed the rules for marriage that we both agreed to. Not happening kids. She set me free. I can live the way I want to.

Daniel: Hi Dad. I get it. Kiss Grandma for me, and when I come get home next weekend, I want a ride in the Spitfire.

Me: Lol, yeah, you guys read me as well as your Grandma.

Ali: you'd better believe it. And we expect a ski vacation for Spring Break? Someplace with a helicopter instead of a t-bar?

What can I say? My kids knew the things I used to do, and the things I really loved. They saw pictures of me skiing, and muddy from motorcross riding.

Me: You bet. I'm thinking Banff. Get yourselves in shape. Back country trails are fun, but they are hard work.

Boring my ass.

Sunday morning saw Mom and I at our favorite bagel shop. I stuck around and helped her with some chores around the house. My phone dinged a text at lunch, and I laughed at the raging text from Karen. They had delivered my Mercedes. They had locked the keys inside, since I had the spares. All she could do was look at it, and it blocked her car in the garage. I'd have to send the delivery team an extra tip for that!

I went home. Karen's car was there. I backed the Jeep down my driveway, parked it. And hopped in my new Mercedes and motored off, again chuckling as Karen ran out and tried to flag me down. Now she could look at my new Jeep, with its trailer load of her dual nemeses, my Spitfire and my Kawasaki. Food for thought. At least her side of the garage was clear and she could get out. Maybe she'd leave, right!? Too easy.

Boring my ass.

I didn't go back home. I hit a mall to buy enough clothing for a couple of days, then checked into the Hyatt near my office. I took the penthouse suite. I didn't earn all those bonuses over the years for nothing. I slept quite soundly.

The next day, I went to work as usual, and told my team I would be on the next trip, a junket to Hong Kong that involved 160 acres of prime industrial property. Negotiations had stalled, and this seemed to be as good a time as any for me to go flex some boss man muscle. My team was thrilled. They had assembled three other possible acquisitions to look at while they were there.

"Why wait?" I asked them when they showed me their preliminary studies on the sites. "We go to look, but be prepared to buy. Alert our counsel over there we are coming in guns hot, and they need to be ready to crank out some serious paperwork. Pack for at least a month people. If you can't do that, make plans to tag team with members of Ian's group. Feel free to fly your families over to see you at least once while you are gone. I don't want any divorces over this push. As a matter of fact, I'll spring for hotel, airfare and expenses for them to go along for the entire time if you choose. I'll even spring for some sight seeing. I want you happy, hungry and effective."

"A month boss?"

"Maybe more. I plan to visit Sydney about that hotel group and Buenos Aires before we come back. I'm sending Ian to Seoul and Mumbai while we are in Honk Kong. We have a unique opportunity to make some serious money here people."

"Nice to see you back, boss," Carter Douglas, my heir apparent as hot shit negotiator grinned at me."

I grinned back, and grabbed my favorite numbers fanatic by the elbow.

"Kim, a word with you please."

I ushered her into my office, instructed my secretary to hold my calls, especially from my wife. She nodded and I closed the door behind Kim and I.

"Here is you big chance Kim. We are going to be working fast and with no margin of error. Most of what we buy, we will be reselling right after we arrive home, and each purchase or sale has to happen without a hitch and in time. Some of our acquisitions are trash, but will be attractive to sellers who have things we want, so we will unload some to get others. We will also be making some stops to open new markets for some of our product lines. Those will not be deals that will benefit us short term, but will yield long term profits that will open eyes of the other partners...the people who will move you up from that junior associate position to something much more lucrative. This is your big moment, so I want you near at hand 24/7 and ready to support any argument or claim I make before in make it."

"24/7? Does that mean..."

I smiled.

"Karen?"

"Dating other guys."

"Does this mean I get to sleep my way to a partnership?"

"No. One woman betraying me at a time is one too many. You'll have to work your way up like anyone else."

"You know you want to fuck me."

It was true. She was a walking wet dream. Lean and lithe, with legs that curved only where they should beneath that luscious ass. And those plunging necklines were a constant reminder of how creamy and soft her delicious breasts looked...

"Mmm hmmm, indeed. But you work for me, so no. Not going got happen. But you are going to be right at hand and at my business related beck and call on this trip. You'll pick me up in a limo Friday morning. Dress as sexy as you can. Even if I'm not, I want my wife worried that I am sleeping with you. When you arrive, come to my door to get me. When you order the limo ask for Jan to drive, and tell her I need her to wear the uniform with the short shorts. I want my wife jealous as hell when I leave."

My team was motivated. My wife was frantic to see me. My kids were furious with my wife. Kim was horny, not for me but to get a promotion. Well, maybe for me too, but I had drawn that line in the sand. I went to the airport to hire a plane. I thought maybe I'd jump out of one. Don't be silly, I wasn't going to kill myself. If I was going to go back to the thrill seeker I had been in my youth, I had to get off my ass and grab a dose of adrenaline. It was awesome. I rented the cameras for me and my jump partner too, to document the stunt. I posted it on Facebook, and enjoyed an awesome night's sleep. The next day my phone was filled with missed calls and texts from the kids, Karen raged. The kids raved. Notice served. The real me was back.

Boring my ass.

I really didn't want to see Karen. So I slipped home while she was at work and packed my stuff. I headed to the airport and caught a late flight to Chicago. There was no pressing reason to go, but I did have some prospects on the back burner that might prove useful. It turned out to be a profitable couple of days, and kept me out of Karen's reach until the big trip. I got in very late Thursday night, and the house was dark. She finally came home at 2:00 am, and didn't even know I was there. Fortunately she was alone. I would have had to confront her about bringing her slut boys into my home, but this way I didn't have to see her until I was ready. I was charged for it too.

I was up early, and had my refreshed luggage packed and by the door. I made myself a manly breakfast of steak and eggs and had ZZ Top on the stereo in the kitchen. I was in a perfect fitting pair of gabardine casual slacks with a new stylish sport shirt, togs Karen had not seen before. Dressy comfort seemed appros pos for the eighteen hour trek to Asia, and I made dressy comfort look good.

Karen made her way down the staircase, drawn by the smell of my coffee. I make great coffee. Hers sucked. "Oh my God, Dale, you're home! Honey why didnt you answer my calls!? I have been worried sick!"

"Yeah, the kids told me you were worried. No need, I'm fine. I'm just doing as I please."

"Oh no you don't, mister. I get a better explanation than that!"

"It's a perfect explanation. Last week you told me you were going to do as you pleased, and I couldn't stop you. So I figured, if wifey dear is going to do as she pleases, I might as well do the same. If its the new us, I can live with it."

"I never said you could do just anything you wanted, I said I was going to..."

"...go out with other men. Ok, I get it. But I didn't want that. So it follows, if you can make a choice that big in spite of my wishes, there is no reason for me to consult you on mine."

"There certainly is a reason! You have a family to be responsible for! A husband and father has no reason running around on a motorcycle, or racing little sports cars! I thought we settled that years ago."

"We did. But we have also grown older and our situation is changed. Karen I gave up all those things for you and the kids. I drove a mini van for crying out loud! I skied bunny slopes with the family. I hadn't jumped out of an airplane for years until this week. You said I was boring. Shit, that's because I was bored!! Now the kids are gone, they have huge college funds to finish school, and here's a big surprise neither you or they know about. They each have a trust fund that matures when they graduate college. They have enough money to go to grad school and put a down payment on a nice house wherever they live. Face it, the kids will be fine no matter what happens to me. Or you! So if the chute doesn't open and I die doing something fucking awesome, I'll die with a smile on my face, and they'll be fine!"