Poking The Tiger

I was stood-up, forgotten, passed on again by my clown (husband) who feels that clients are much more important than promises to his wife. This is the fourth week that we had set a date to make up for our VD dinner at The Cass House. At the last minute, he cancelled sighting an emergency meeting with a client. Four times!! Is this man stupid or just poking the tiger?

I think I’m going to leave him. OR BETTER YET, I think I will stay and be a raving bitch! Maybe a more sinister plan is to become a passive aggressive hag. I will wash his white shirts with my red towels. I will scrub the toilet with his toothbrush and then but it back in the holder. I will burn his tator-tots. I will give the dog diarrhea (which translates into a DISASTER in the backyard). I will talk in my sleep about other men. I will make Quiche every night for dinner.

Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but the faithful Jag would not start, so I had two choices:
1. Stay home with the painting/carpentry gang and try to write while they blasted rap/reggae music all with the tap, tap, tap of their hammering.
2. Have an employee pick me up and be a retail hostage all day.

I went for retail, spent the day wrestling software, arguing with little old ladies about the price their returns to QVC was going to cost and finding the biggest potato bug in history the back of a cupboard as I pulled out a ream of paper. When they restarted my heart, I had to notarize two divorces. These are always bad. Someone is forever pissed. One man cried as he signed every paper. The other let the children obliterate my store while the Plaintiff and him threw insults at each other.

I got a ride home at 6:30 hungry for this menu:

The Cass House

Bistro salad

Fried green tomatoes, frisee, baby radicchio, Nueske bacon lardons, green garlic dijon vinaigrette, farm egg

Maine lobster pot pie

Arborio rice, market vegetables, herb puff pastry

Chicken leg confit

Balsamic roasted spring onions, pomme puree, sherry jus

Angel food ginger bread pudding with clementine ice cream, sesame brittle


What I ate was sliced cheese and crackers. I did treat myself to a bottle of Foxen Syrah, to lessen the pain.

One of the newly single guys asked me out on a date after the ink had dried on his divorce papers, if I don’t get my rendezvous at the Cass House soon; I’m taking him up on it.