Patricia and Patrice
Patricia and I park at the causeway overlooking the bay regularly. Sitting in the car with the windows open, smoking cigarettes, and drinking iced tea on the causeway is easier and more comfortable than driving all the way out to the busy beach. Patricia knows I love Patrice, but she still has a thing for me. Patricia is laid back and always listens to the latest progress on my poetry.
Today Patrice was supposed to come with us to the causeway but cancelled. She was furious over something I had said on the phone. I was equally furious with her. My emotions got the better of me.
At the causeway, without Patrice, I told Patricia "I love you". She beamed, stretched, yawned nervously, and said, "I love you, too!" We spotted a dolphin swimming not too far from where a man was kayaking. Lighting another cigarette, I said, "Would you like to go to a poetry reading at the university on Tuesday?" "Yes!" she quickly answered.
We talked about my poetry awhile and then Patricia, excited, took me home. I thanked her for everything and told her I'd see her Tuesday. Once inside my door, I immediately called Patrice to smooth things over. No sooner could I say "Hello" than Patrice cheerfully related she was angry no longer and could never stay angry at me for more than a day. "I love you."
Luckily Patrice does not care about poetry. I really do not think Patricia is much enthused about poetry either. She just has a thing for me.
submitted at 8:45am
3 November 2010
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