Welcome to my life.

Five hours. Five HOURS! It had been five hours since we came to the doctors office, and still nothing was being done about my little problem. The doctor and Clarisse were still happily chatting away about idiotic things, while I was having a major problem here.

I sighed for the 79th time. I had to count them to do something seeing as there was nothing else to do. My mind drifted back to how I got here as I voluntarily let it take me away from the hell hole known as the doctor's office. Mmm, I think I'm being a tad dramatic. Oh well!

I was enjoying a hot cup of Bakerville cream coffee - the best around - while sitting on the porch. It was one of those habits I found my self doing more and more. My peaceful revere was broken by the screeching of tires on the road.

I actually consider myself above those old ladies, so I did not rush out onto the lawn to see what the noise was. However, the ripples on my coffee told me to do otherwise.

"Henry!" A screech so powerful I fell to my knees. It could only mean one thing.

"Clarisse." I nodded to hide my grimace.

The stick of a woman flaunted over to where I was sitting, her arms flailing about in a show of distress. The chair she sat on sagged under the amount of her make-up.

"Oh Henry!" She sobbed, her mascara running, looking eerily similar to her normal make-up.

"Oh Henry!" She said again. "It's awful, it's horrible, it's a TRAGEDY!"

"What is it this time?" I asked with a sigh. I reached for my coffee. She beat me to it.

"I need a place to stay, Henry." She paused to take a sip.

Figures. Clarisse had a fetish, which will not be identified. It sometimes lands her in trouble with the cops, so she would always stay at my place. In the end, it was this fetish - which will never, ever be named - that caused us to get a divorce.

"Can I stay here Henry?" She sobbed for effect.

Well, this time she wasn't going to stay here. She was going to stay somewhere else, not with me. I have a life! Henry Furgueson was going to stand up for himself, he was going to-

"Thank you Henry!" Clarisse squealed, setting down my - MY - empty cup of expensive coffee.

"Not at all, Clarisse." My smile was strained.

Meet Clarisse. My estranged ex-wife. Notorious for her fetish - which still will NOT be named - that continuously gets her in trouble with the police. And yes, as many of you are thinking, even before I married her, she still wore a horrid amount of make-up.

We met at a bar after my friend's wedding. I was feeling pretty down and she was sitting next to me, looking almost bearable after several beers. The next thing I know I wake up next to her, a ring on my finger.

I had long since settled Clarisse in the guest room, which she uses far more then my actual guests, and I just laid down on my single sized bed.

Is this how I want life? Do I really enjoy it? Am I happy by myself? Do I miss her? I sighed to clear my mind of the melancholy thoughts. I did not want to fall into depression again, it was hell last time. Never trust your friends when they say a strip-club will help. All it does is get you 2000 cheaper and one hell of a hangover.

I drifted off to sleep, Clarisse's snores which floated through the wall lulled me to the deep abyss of black. My last thought before unconsciousness got a hold of me was how horrible tomorrow was going to be. Oh bother.

End of Chapter One