A Big Wiener
“You never do anything spontaneous,” Oscar muttered to himself, thinking about the last conversation with his girlfriend. “You never put yourself out there.”
He knew she’d been pulling away from him, but he didn’t want to admit it. He also had no idea why…until that conversation, if you could call it that. It was more of a monologue. Him standing there stupefied while she railed about how boring he was. Half-tuning her out as he tried to figure out what had set her off and why she suddenly found these faults, as she apparently saw them, such a big deal.
All he could manage for his defense was a mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He wanted to get mad and yell back at her, but he knew that would just make things worse and he didn’t have anything about her to complain about. So he stood there, taking the tongue-lashing, waiting for the inevitable, “We’re done!”
Fortunately, that didn’t come so he figured he had a chance to save their relationship. “I’ll show her,” he continued to mutter to himself as he walked along the street, garnering strange looks from passersby. “I can be spontaneous. I’ll show her.”
He knew she always ate her lunch outside, in the plaza…and that’s where he found her…and his heart dropped. She was sitting on a bench with some other guy, chatting and laughing, frequently putting her hand on his shoulder.
He had planned to turn up and sing a silly song to her, but a flash of anger found him sprinting around the corner, standing in front of her, and screaming, “Look at me! His wiener can’t possibly be as big as mine!”
All heads turned to stare at him standing there, in front of her and this guy, red in the face, near hyper-ventilating. Much to his surprise, she started laughing, as did the guy, who stood up walked over to him and extended his hand. “Hi, Oscar,” he said. “I’m Paul, Alice’s brother.”