Big Day

It's finally here. The big day. I get to see Marie today. My lovely little flower, waiting for me to pluck her up from the garden of emptiness. Unfortunately, she's married.

Yes, that depresses me. And her husband's nothing to look at, either, believe me. His name is Harold. He's one of those fat, balding plumbers with their ass crack always sticking out. The last time I saw him, he was sliding out of a chair three times too small for him while she waited on him hand and foot. She needs someone who will treat her like a real woman. Someone like me.

By the way, my name is George. What a name, eh? Ah, I can live with it. Anyways, back to my lovely dumpling.

Ah, my Marie. How I love her. Of course, she won't acknowledge my existence in the world, but I know it's all an act. She just doesn't want her husband to get suspicious. He might get a little freaky about it and try to have me fed to wild goats in South Africa or something. I would certainly not enjoy that.

I have to look my best today for Marie. I bought a new bottle of cologne especially for today. It's called Axe. It's supposed to make women go nuts and jump on you and tear your clothes off. So I've been working out, too. I want to look buff when she rips my shirt off. And she'll say, "Oh, George, you're so sexy." She'll forget about that fat bastard she calls a husband.

Aw, dammit, now the phone's ringing.

"Hello?"

"George, you're going to be late. You better hurry up."

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Damn boss. Always yapping at me to 'get to work on time.' Seriously, who does that? But I guess I better listen to him. The sooner I get to work, the sooner I get to see Marie.

I put on the finishing touches before I leave for work: straighten my shirt, slick my hair back. It's the same thing every day, with no chance for a change.

That's one thing I hate about my job – the redundancy. My routine never really changes, except for maybe new customers. But it pays the bills, and I get to see my Marie.

I just know I'll be able to steal her away from Harold. How could she be in love with that fat slob? I mean, does he even have a job? How does he support her? If she were my wife, I'd work my ass off to make her happy. Anything and everything she wanted, I'd get it for her, no matter how much it cost.

Of course, she could always say the only thing she wanted was for me to leave her alone, but why would she say that? Why would she turn down the man (and that's what I am – a man, unlike her Mr. Piggily Wiggily) that could give her everything she wanted and needed? She wouldn't, and that's why I'm the one for her.

I'm just glad she doesn't have any children with him. That would make my job so much harder. I couldn't bear to tear children away from their father, no matter how disgusting he is. I just don't believe in that sort of thing.

Great, now I'm going to be late anyways, because there's an accident on the interstate. How aggravating. I could just take a detour. I'm sure it can't be that hard to find my way around on the back roads. I mean, they're just roads. Granted, I've never been on them before, but how hard can it be?

All I have to do is turn off here, and in no time, I'll be right to work, and the sooner I'm working, the sooner I get to see my darling.

Wow, this is really some beautiful scenery. I should take back roads more often. Now, to get back on the interstate, all I should have to do is turn left and in a little while, turn left again, and BAM! it'll be right there.

Aha, here we go. Timberlodge Lane. Well, the name doesn't really matter. As long as it gets me to where I need to go, it'll be fine. Wait a minute. What do we have here? Huckleberry Road. That happens to be the road Marie lives on. Maybe I'll just take a little detour. I won't really be late for work – it'll be work-related.

I'll just take a right here and it should only take a few minutes until I get there. Now I'm excited. I get to see my Marie earlier than I anticipated.

Here we are. W64531 Huckleberry Road. My darling's humble abode. Hopefully Harold the Pig won't be there, and I'll be able to persuade my little flower to join me in my pursuit for freedom.

Now I just have to work up the nerve to actually get out of my truck and walk up to her door. I get like this every time I come here. And I always get the same response. Oh, well. At least I try. But, anyways, I better get it over with. I've got nothing to lose.

I'm waiting at the door now. God, this is taking an eternity!

"Hello, George." It's Marie. How beautiful she is.

"Hello, Mrs. Smith," I manage. "It's a beautiful day out today, isn't it?"

"Why, yes. Is there a new catalog? Or are you just making your rounds?"

"Oh, uh, I was, um, yeah, just making my rounds. Can I get you anything today?"

"I don't really think so, George," Marie says, smiling sweetly. "I'll tell Harold you stopped by, and I'll see you next month."

"Yeah, November 13th. See you then." I turn and trudge from the steps to my dull yellow truck. Once again, turned down. Oh, well. Such is the life of the Schwann's man.

But I'll look on the bright side of things – my next stop is Emily Watson's house. Ah, yes, Emily, she is so beautiful. The love of my life…