Lying on the bed to flatten my stomach enough to zip my jeans, I heard the ping of a text message. Instinctively, I thought, He canceled.
I have a sixth sense about online dating. Two weeks earlier, I called a friend an hour before a scheduled date.
“I think this dickhead is fat.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute…” Sue sighed dramatically. “You showed me pics. He looks decent. Why is he a dickhead already?”
Suffice it to say I was right on both counts. When the latest one canceled, I peeled off my jeans, pulled on some stretch pants and headed into town for dinner, alone.
I walked into Jimmy’s Pizza and was greeted with a huge smile by the owner. “Hey Darlin’, veggie slice?”
“And a beer. Thanks, Jimmy.”
I’ve lived in this neighborhood my entire life, and Jimmy’s been dishing up pizza on this corner for as long as I can remember. As teenagers, we started calling him the Pizza Preacher. Not only did he preach the virtues of pizza as a cheesy panacea for all life’s woes, he was also generous in offering his unique brand of wisdom gleaned from years serving the fine and not-so-fine folks of this town.
When I started grumbling about the perils of middle-aged dating, he put his hand up to stop me. “Let me ask you a question. What are you keeping alive in your apartment?”
I furrowed my brow and squinted at the ceiling. In my head, I thought…anxiety, fear of death, interesting mold under the sink, maybe a couple mice in the walls…
“Three plants,” I said.
He tsked. “Darlin’, you need a dog.”
I’ve been bringing Humbert to the dog park twice a week to socialize since I found him at the shelter a month ago. Initially, I considered changing his name. I’m not sure if Humbert’s previous owner was a Nabokov fan (somehow doubtful) or simply quirky. Even if the vast majority of the general populace never read Lolita and didn’t know that the protagonist (a likable pedophile) is named Humbert Humbert, I knew. And even though I think Lolita is a masterpiece, I don’t care for the reference when it comes to my dog. Ultimately, I settled on a nickname: Humb. (Rhymes with numb.)
I let Humb off-leash today as we approached the park. I was not thrilled to eye Laurie Rosenbaum up ahead with Luke (son) and Lucy (Pomeranian). Laurie was a woman who carried grudges like prized possessions and somehow managed to keep them polished over the years. She never forgave me for making out with Mitchell (now her husband) back in high school one of the many times they were broken up.
For me, this episode barely registered as noteworthy and is all but forgotten until I see Laurie in the supermarket or, like today, scurrying around trying to scoop up little Lucy as Humb valiantly attempts to mount her from behind, vigorously humping the air around her in the process.
I shouted in my sternest voice, “Humb! Humb! Goddammit, HUMB!”
Luke started humming.
Laurie glared at me, then snapped at her son, “Stop humming, Luke!”
“Listen Laurie, I’m really sorr — ”
Before I could apologize, she launched into an emotional tirade that began with her definition of a responsible dog-owner (I was not one) and meandered into the territory of my overall shortcomings, including her opinion that I am — in no particular order — a bad influence, an unsuccessful hippie, a sloppy dresser, a loner, a messy drunk, and most inaccurately, a home wrecker.
Laurie has always been wound pretty tight. I tried to discreetly signal to Humb that it was time to leave and I started slowly backing away while she continued. She put an exclamation point on the end of her speech with a few choice expletives that I was surprised to hear shouted in front of her four-year-old, although Luke appeared unfazed.
When we finally made our escape, Humb and I headed to Jimmy’s for a drink. I relayed my story to Jimmy and he was amazed that I hadn’t heard the news — Mitchell left Laurie for a twenty-five-year-old yoga instructor he met on Tinder.
“You did Laurie a favor,” Jimmy said as he slid a slice of pizza in front of me.
“By giving her an outlet for her misplaced rage?”
“No Darlin’, by reminding her that we’re all animals…only a select few of us are lucky enough to roam free.”
