Cold Case
Not to sound like an alarmist, but if your boyfriend tries to kill you on the second date, even if it is on a cruise, my advice is to give back the Cartier watch and the wardrobe he bought you at Barney's -- yes, even the tux -- and disembark at the next port of call.
Outside Twin Peaks, November 2008.
Yes, I recognize there are those among you who would say that on this basis I have not lived; that I've been too cautious, too quick to judge the situation unsalvageable, that I don't even try to work things out, that I simply give up too easily. Those of you who say these things, however, did not know me in my callow and careless, even reckless, youth. Let me assure you, I have lived to tell the tale, as they say.
On the other hand, I am afraid our friend Cecil [obviously NOT his real name, or he would have changed it to something more masculine long ago] may not be so fortunate. He certainly did not heed my earlier words of wisdom or by this point he would have already fled the unstable beast BRUTUS [also not his real name], if not in the middle of that cruise, then soon thereafter. But no.
"Woke at 6:30 AM by Knock at Door Again" was the header of the e-mail originally sent from "Cecil @ Totally Versatile dot com." The text read:
"The Sherriffs [sic] office just served me with papers to show up in court for a RESTRAINING ORDER against ME from YOU know WHO..."
The message had been forwarded by my dear friend and exercise work-out companion E.S. with the attached comment, "FYI. Let's Discuss."
I quickly replied:
"Glutton for punishment?"
ES responded:
"Did you notice he sent it wide? To everyone on his contact list. Was that really necessary?"
And yet I could not help noticing that my name was not on the distribution list; I wondered what to make of the omission. Could it be poor Cecil found me too disparaging in my assessment of his relationship? Had I offended with my thinly veiled remarks regarding steroid use and uncontrollable outbursts of violence? Did he imagine I savored the chance to say, "I told you so."? Thoughtfully, of course, E had relayed the important news item so as to keep me in the loop, but the possibility that Cecil might accuse me of standing in judgment when all I wanted to do was help -- well, you can understand if I felt sad.
Not one to dwell on past or present or even future unpleasantness, however, I returned to my reading -- "The Girls of Radcliff Hall" by the noted composer, writer and painter Gerald, Lord Berners (1883-1950) who made his first magical trip to Italy in 1904 -- a happier cruise surely, than that on which poor Cecil had set sail. I had only found my place, however, when the familiar bell on my laptop rang, alerting me to the arrival of fresh news in my InBox. Perhaps the link to that website devoted to art photography of male twins and triplets my correspondent Jeffrey had once sent me, and which I had subsequently misplaced. I leapt up.
"My Lawyers (sic) Response Being Sent toDay (sic)" was the heading of the forwarded message with PDF attachment. In addition and in his inimitable style, ES had affixed his own succinct reaction. As I cannot release here the contents of the aforementioned legal document, I will allow E's assessment to suffice and, as it were, to echo my own sentiments on the case at hand:
OMFG.
To be continued.
Outside Twin Peaks, November 2008.
Yes, I recognize there are those among you who would say that on this basis I have not lived; that I've been too cautious, too quick to judge the situation unsalvageable, that I don't even try to work things out, that I simply give up too easily. Those of you who say these things, however, did not know me in my callow and careless, even reckless, youth. Let me assure you, I have lived to tell the tale, as they say.
On the other hand, I am afraid our friend Cecil [obviously NOT his real name, or he would have changed it to something more masculine long ago] may not be so fortunate. He certainly did not heed my earlier words of wisdom or by this point he would have already fled the unstable beast BRUTUS [also not his real name], if not in the middle of that cruise, then soon thereafter. But no.
"Woke at 6:30 AM by Knock at Door Again" was the header of the e-mail originally sent from "Cecil @ Totally Versatile dot com." The text read:
"The Sherriffs [sic] office just served me with papers to show up in court for a RESTRAINING ORDER against ME from YOU know WHO..."
The message had been forwarded by my dear friend and exercise work-out companion E.S. with the attached comment, "FYI. Let's Discuss."
I quickly replied:
"Glutton for punishment?"
ES responded:
"Did you notice he sent it wide? To everyone on his contact list. Was that really necessary?"
And yet I could not help noticing that my name was not on the distribution list; I wondered what to make of the omission. Could it be poor Cecil found me too disparaging in my assessment of his relationship? Had I offended with my thinly veiled remarks regarding steroid use and uncontrollable outbursts of violence? Did he imagine I savored the chance to say, "I told you so."? Thoughtfully, of course, E had relayed the important news item so as to keep me in the loop, but the possibility that Cecil might accuse me of standing in judgment when all I wanted to do was help -- well, you can understand if I felt sad.
Not one to dwell on past or present or even future unpleasantness, however, I returned to my reading -- "The Girls of Radcliff Hall" by the noted composer, writer and painter Gerald, Lord Berners (1883-1950) who made his first magical trip to Italy in 1904 -- a happier cruise surely, than that on which poor Cecil had set sail. I had only found my place, however, when the familiar bell on my laptop rang, alerting me to the arrival of fresh news in my InBox. Perhaps the link to that website devoted to art photography of male twins and triplets my correspondent Jeffrey had once sent me, and which I had subsequently misplaced. I leapt up.
"My Lawyers (sic) Response Being Sent toDay (sic)" was the heading of the forwarded message with PDF attachment. In addition and in his inimitable style, ES had affixed his own succinct reaction. As I cannot release here the contents of the aforementioned legal document, I will allow E's assessment to suffice and, as it were, to echo my own sentiments on the case at hand:
OMFG.
To be continued.
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