Daddy, You're a Fool to Cry...

You know, I got a woman
And she lives in the poor part of town
And I go see her sometimes
And we make love, so fine
I put my head on her shoulder
She says, "Tell me all your troubles"
You know what she says?
She says, "Daddy you're a fool to cry
You're a fool to cry
And it makes me wonder why"

I won't use her name because Rhode Island is way too small. So it'll be Danica for now. Danica was a “sort of” trust fund girl and way out of my league. Her Dad managed to create a little business Empire and bought all three of his daughters a house when they got married. Nice life huh?

When I met her at her front door on our first official date, she stood there in white capris, with a glass of white wine in her hand and I said “Hello.” In the next second I looked straight past her into the well appointed, large home. Once invited in, I quickly scanned the place some more and realized this girl was more then well off and comfortable. She had been married at one time and her now dead husband had been a Major Domo in the RI education system. So money wasn't a problem at all for her. Nor was the hefty life insurance policy that kicked in.

I spotted a German coffee grinder, an Italian coffee maker and espresso machine on the huge kitchen counter. A six top gas grill and the kitchen had vaulted ceilings with nice, professional lighting. My kitchen has single overhead globe light. Customized upholstered kitchen chairs that fit snug up against this inlaid teak/mahogany table made by some master craftsman, I'm sure. My kitchen table says “Formica” on the bottom of it.

“Shit..” I thought to myself. “All I have in my pocket is $175 to wine and dine her tonight.” She had that, at least, in wine in her mini wine cellar I found out a bit later. My attempt at going to the Capital Grill would mean nothing as she probably fed her cat from there. This was the mid 90's mind you so do the inflation factor there.

But, as time would tell, she did dig me for who I was and didn't mind I was from...ugh...Pawtucket, living in a smallish Cape Cod style home that needed a good dusting.

Soooo...how do I tactfully state this? Early in the relationship, after we finished making love/fucking/makin' bacon/doing the Fantango, I lay there on the bed like most guys, exhausted and spent. I was starting to drift off when I hear this from her.

“What bothers you? Really, down inside?”

I get startled out of my nice, deepening relaxation and in my head I say “Huh? What was that?”

It sounded like an interview question to me. So I answered it in that applicant's way, turning all negatives into a positive. I had to THINK now. Damn. My brains ran out out my ears ten minutes earlier for Christ's Sake. I felt like I had to spurt out some resume lines to satisfy her.

An aside that has nothing to do with this but now I think of it. A woman I knew was being interviewed for a psych research/professor/statistician position at Brown U. It was one of those all day interviews where they tour the place, meet various committees and the administration. Finally, she's at the end of her day and realizes this job isn't for her at all. The final bit of the interview process asked her this:

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” they asked.

She answers:

“In five years? Hmmm...to tell the truth, in five years I'd like to become a Shetland pony.”

She got up and left. She had then taken a job at RIC where there was “less horseshit” according to her.

I always thought that was funny and ballsy.

Anyways...

It's 3 AM and I can't sleep and my left eye is hurting. Jesus, pink eye or eye lash cancer, gotta be one of the two. It looks like someone has socked me there. I had the stereo going and that old Rolling Stone's song comes on, which I haven't heard in years and I hear that line, “...tell me all your troubles.”

“Oh wow” I thought, “I remember THAT.”

You don't have to schtupp me in order to get me to “reveal” about myself. I can reveal at most anytime if in the mood. If I have known you for a bit, I can volunteer some pretty shocking stuff if I want too and follow it up with a brush off attitude. “What was I going to do about it? It was out of my control anyways. You just deal and move forward, there's no other way.” 

 Click if you want to hear the song.