3 - Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner!!

6/7/09

Since yesterday pretty much sucked with this whole thing, its probably a good thing we are at this point of my tribunal. Comments from my closest family and friends are that I have been too nice thus far, evening out the ruts in the road, putting lipstick on the chapped lips. Well, I dont see it as I always try to look at both sides even though I was hurt. Today, Im not sugarcoating this fugly rant. This is my recall of our final honeymoon day. Enjoy!

As I said before, I wore a sassy dress and heels and was excited to give this "Dinner and a Movie" a try. I loved it! We sat at a small table and ordered our casual food and a pitcher of beer. This night was turning into such fun. The movie was some odd love story, an inane plotline where Jennifer Aniston is pursued by Kevin Costner. I really dont remember the story line, but as we ate our food and downed our beer, I remember ribbing (now - YAY! Im married) DH2, repetitively saying...who cares how stupid the story line is - Its. Kevin. Costner. - and I would sleep with him too if he were in MY movie! I thought I was hysterical as I quite honestly see nothing at all attractive about KC, but he is the "Mr. Dreamy" of my generation, so it was a good line. I do have to say that I was totally oblivious to the fact that I alone thought my joking was funny and innocently continued my sarcastic onslaught. Little did I know that on this last day of the supposedly happiest week of our life I was getting under the skin of Mr. Thoughtful, Mr. Im Not Who I Lead You To Believe I Was, "The Hubs..."

Okay, so I wasnt so nice. I honestly thought I was being funny. Guess not, b/c as the show ended, we made our way out into the mall area, hoping to find a small spot to do that dancing that had been so elusive up to this point even though DH2 had promised to "make that happen." I was in a great mood as I had thoroughly enjoyed our dinner and a movie. So, shoulders draped with DH2's jacket as the warm breeze turned cool, our dancing search began. We passed up a few nondancing restaurants on our walk until we came upon one, door open, chalkboard touting a name I had never heard of. Hoping for a local band, we approached the doorman, who told us that, sorry, it was a comedy club. DH2 was very excited to try this out. Uhhmmmm...dancing, anyone? I sort of hemmed and hawed for a second, not wanting to insult the doorman, still on my quest for a 2-step or even a prom-like slow dance. I backed away, thanked the man at the door I would never see again and did a quick head-jerk, hoping DH and I still had time to finish our mission. We walked away and turned the corner to head a different direction, I in the lead with DH2 right behind me....

And as soon as we rounded the corner, it began. An angry, under-the-breath tirade welling up from DH2. Are you kidding me right now? Could I truly be hearing what I thought I was hearing? I continued to walk, and as we distanced ourselves from the scuttle of people outside the comedy club and in the main area of the outdoor mall, his voice increased, angrier still, repetitively jabbing with each word like a dagger in my back. I guess at that point, fueled with a building rage at my teasing about Kevin Costner and my not wanting to attend the comedy club that we had only happened upon, DH began a continuous rant, berating me, everything about me, calling me everything but a white girl, how dare I not want to sit at a comedy club with him, how dare I walk away and embarrass him, how dare I comment like I had at the movie, how dare I, I dunno, breathe too loud? It was continuous, degrading, increasing in volume, hateful, uncalled for, unexpected, belittling filth...and I continued to walk. And he continued this, trailing me all the way to our car, for all to see, and hear.

We both got in the car, and still it did not stop.

We drove the short distance to the hotel, and still it did not stop.

We valet parked our car, and still it did not stop.

We entered this lovely hotel where we were married just a few days before, and still it did not stop.

We made the humiliating march through the marble lobby where the staff had called us by our first names for five days, and still it did not stop.

We rode up several floors in an elevator, and still it did not stop.

Down the hall to our suite, and still it did not stop.

We entered our suite, shut the door, at which point I turned to my drunken, angry, tyrannical, newlywed husband and said only, "You. Are. Psychotic."

I made the short trip down the hall to our bedroom, shut the door, locked it firmly, and quickly packed everything I had brought, including that f-ing stupid wedding dress. While he lolled in a chair in the main room of our gorgeous suite, already inebriated out of his mind, and finished off a fifth of rum, I lay down in our marital bed and thought...Jesus, what have I done?

TODAY:
No comment.

MOOD:
From what has happened in the last few days and writing this part of the story, I am so angry...I think I will refrain from comment.