The Rake's Progress: A Cautionary Tale

My girlfriend’s wedding tomorrow is canceled. The groom never intended to go through with it, disappeared Wednesday with cash his fiancée lent him to purchase a tuxedo for his son. Our investigation determined that he lied about his many appointments to be fitted into his tux, he lied about having purchased the rings, he lied about the supposed custody battle and supposed impending adoption of his son by my poor friend, and worse; his cellular usage indicates that instead of going into Mt. Vernon as he was expected to do, he went out to Long Island and made calls to the Dominican Republic as late as 2:15 Thursday morning. After that, his phone ceased to put out a GPS signal. 

 

I'm forcing her to go see a play with me about a flawless murder. The original plan was to take her to a movie and get her comfortably numb on the stickiest pot I could buy, but we've decided to avoid anything that might have a love theme with a happy ending. The play is inexpensive, has been running off-Broadway for years, and the lovers do not meet a happy end. 

 

I've just stopped home to cook her some supper. She's had all the time outside she can tolerate right now, and I refuse to cook in her kitchen. I hate it. Oddly, it rained all day today. Her wedding was to take place in a park near where they met. The rain seemed to cheer her up a bit. I'm putting the dress on eBay when she's ready so she can use the money to buy a new couch he's never caused to sag. 

I'm annoyed that he's gorgeous and charming, hung like a bull, and sharp as a tack. He'll have no trouble causing some other woman the same grief. I hope his dick falls off. 

 

Even my cooking does not tempt her. Her body has never looked better. The dress swims on her. eBay has a curiously large inventory of never-been-worn wedding gowns. While online, we chanced upon DontDateHimGirl.com. Fortunately, she has many excellent photos of him, as he always loved to pose for the camera. Turns out it is surprisingly easy to manipulate Google so that name searches yield links to such resonant words as “impotent.” We enjoy our time at the computer.

 

 




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