I Win at the End

There was this little challenge earlier this week and I realized that I could write a short one at my lunch break. This is it! Enjoy. No proof reading, just spell proofing. Sorry! It is exactly 750 words after this little intro.

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I am very proud of myself. I did something new and only good things ensued. But before I give you the conclusion, let's start at the beginning.

I am Mark de Spot, and yes, I am of Neanderthal ascent by my father, my grandfather left the Netherlands after WWII. I don't know much about that part of Europe. At the time of the story I was 35 years old and recently divorced from a wife that I better not describe in my colorful language knowing all the little underage shits perusing the Internet.

I was raised to do the right thing and mostly tried to, not always successfully I must confess. And what I did that fateful day changed the way I see things.

It started great. I was attending a party at a bar downtown and was having a blast. When it was quitting time, I remembered the admonition of my Mom: "If you're too drunk to drive your car, take a cab." And that's what I did that evening.

There's positives and negative about that. The most negative: I would have to come back the next day to pick up my car. But there was also positives like the feeling of doing the right things and the couple of fares I picked up along the way; it paid for my booze tab. These drunken satisfied customers were all going the same way I lived anyway. The crux of the matter though was to decide where to ditch the taxi cab when I get home.

I had an epiphany while driving by my ex's neighborhood. She lives only a short walk from my own new apartment. It takes only about 10 minute to my 12 years old son to walk between the two parents and he still goes at the same school wherever he lives that week. I chose my apartment for that very reason as I am described as being a very reasonable man.

When Martha left me, she moved in right away with her new paramour, Brad. That was the day I came home to announce that I had receive my pink slip from the plant where I help building Ford cars. The notice was for eight weeks. By the end of the eight weeks, I had terminated my lease, found a new apartment, had a new job lined up and I did spent the whole eight weeks passing off my frustration upon about 8000 cars. Hey, these are Ford cars; quality control never blinked an eye. Same old, same old!

Her new love of her life was a ticket giver employed by our fine city. In a way we are in the same industry: I build cars, he tickets them. But it is really unfair that my job goes to the gutter to please a bunch of billionaires while his despicable job is safe however bad the economic downturn is. And I learned later that my wife met him when she ran a red light and had to give him a blowjob to let him drop it.

I drove the cab to my ex's street which was deserted. I drove at high speed through the snowbank and landed the car on their front lawn. I got out of the car and made a beeline toward the front door. Well if the bees fly in an S pattern. I went too much to my right, corrected my bearing but then went too much to my left and bumped the corner or their front deck. I fell on my back on the snow. Not one to waste an opportunity, I did a great snow angel with my arms and legs. Satisfied with my work, I got up and got straight for the steps. I then turned around and walked my way back to the street following the sidewalk free of snow. At the street, I look with satisfaction at my handiwork, glad that I had been wearing my gloves tonight because it never occurred to me to get rid of fingerprints in the taxi. Back home I slept like a baby.

The next morning I heard banging at the door. It was my son all excited by the fact that cops came at their house and arrested my wife lover. Later that morning, we ubered it to fetch my car and learned on the radio that Brad has been arraigned for grand theft auto and might be losing his job. Perfect ending from my point of view!