The Polack

When I said that she looked up at me and knew that our relationship was gone. There would never be an "us" anymore.

I had to ask her another question. "Did you ever stop?"

She hesitated and then must have figured it really didn't matter, so she told the truth. "We never really stopped. We had lulls, but we would get together, usually twice a month."

I had hoped for a different answer, but was glad she told me the truth anyways.

"One more question. What happened about a year ago that made you start to treat me so badly. Your whole attitude started to change. The outward disdain was evident."

Her face turned red, then she looked a little mad. "George started to try to get me to do a threesome, and not with you. I could probably have done it if you were involved, but we couldn't figure out a way to make that happen. He kept pushing it though and it made me resent you for what I know you would never do.

I know it sounds odd, but I thought that I could have my two men love me together and I resented you for not being the kind of person that would allow it."

"So, did you ever do it?" I asked.

"No, I thought about it, but then you left and my whole world came crashing down."

"Well, now you can do it with the knowledge that I don't care. What you do is no longer of my concern."

We both knew that our time to talk had come to an end, so I paid the bill and we walked out to our respective cars."

Four months later we were standing in front of a Judge and he pronounced us divorced. George was there too.

As we were walking out of the courthouse Jenna said, "Can we go get a drink, for old time's sake?"

"Sure." I said. By now the animosity I held for the two of them was gone. Then I thought, "This will be the last time I have to be with them. They can be alone together from now on. Let the swine live in their muck. They deserve each other. Ha, Jenna will have to get used to a lower standard of living." Okay, maybe the animosity wasn't gone.

We drove to Wrangler's and as we started walking in from the parking lot, I thought to myself, "This is like so many jokes. This one started out, 'A cheating cunt, a backstabbing asshole, and a Polack walk into a bar. The bartender yells out as we walk through the door, "Hey, we don't serve your kind in here!" The cunt and the asshole look at each other. Then the asshole says, "Hey, you can't deny service just because he's a Polack." The bartender says, "The Polack can stay, but the health department won't allow us to have cunts and assholes openly visible in a food establishment!"

That was Gus, I had given him a heck of a deal on a classic car that someone had traded in. Since then he's treated me like royalty. He loves his 1972 Gran Torino and treats her like a baby, cleaning and polishing her from front chrome to back taillights.

I may be a Polack, but I'm a respected one.