Track 12 – A Girl Named Mary And A Boy Named Bill

[From Album #1 – Dean Martin Sings (Dean Martin)]

People tend to ask you the same sort of things when they see you with someone else, it’s sort of like small talk but typically more annoying. Nobody likes it, but everybody does it, and nobody knows why. “So how did you two meet?” It’s fun to ask because you expect a pretty good story, but most of the time you just end up disappointed, and regret asking if it’s a particularly long disappointment. We were drunk when we met, but I was drunk on wine, which for some reason keeps me pretty clear. She didn’t remember though, on account of the alcohol and she just didn’t have that great of a memory to being with. One day I told her how we met, I sent her this text message:

“I remember. Joe introduced us. We started talking, or arguing, bit of both. I liked you right away, you have this passion about you, it’s not common. You walked away, you said you were going to talk with the guy you showed up with. I figured I offended you, it’s happened before, I lay on the schtick too strong. Like you said, it’s like I’m always on. I went back to talking with my friends, they asked and I said I offended you too much. Then we somehow got to talking again, not sure how this time, maybe you approached me or maybe I approached you. But it was different, people started to disappear, literally and figuratively. All I could see was you, and I was ok with that. You said you liked me and I said it was mutual. Not sure how we even got along, we talked about all the things you’re not supposed to talk about when you meet someone new. And we clashed on almost every topic, guess it just felt right for the both of us. Then you almost left, with the guy you showed up with. Some of your friends there said I should go after you and ask you to stay, they said screw that other guy. I thought it was too late and I’d lost you, but you came back. We made out for a long time, we were both really handsy. We really wanted to screw each other’s brains out that night, we didn’t, but not for lack of trying, I guess. We went into the bathroom, what a couple of class acts. I couldn’t get it up on account of too much wine. It was for the best, I think. We went back out and tried to dance but we were both too drunk for that too. We spent a lot of the rest of the time just holding each other and making out like damn teenagers, hah. The sun came up eventually. Yeesh, what a rough ending, haha.”

When it all came crashing down, not the first time, but the last time and I forget what number that was. I sent this message to the friend who introduced us:

“I just want to say thanks for introducing us. Nobody knew where it would go. We went through a lot of great and perfect times as well as outright terrible and catastrophic episodes. I love her and will probably keep doing so. Now that it’s completely over, I’m glad for all of it. I didn’t come out any different and I don’t think she did either. In all, I have some regrets about it, there’s always something that could’ve been done differently on both our parts. But if I were given the chance to do it all again and make the exact same decisions, knowing we would just end up hating each other, I’d do it all over again. It was worth it and it was beautiful.”

I guess I can get longwinded, she always did hate that about me.



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