Unholy Matrimony

January 7, 2010
RULE #1: Don’t get drunk in Vegas.¬¬¬¬¬¬
RULE #2: Don’t get drunk period.
I’m thirty-four years old and I hate my wife. That’s all I can think about as I laze here lifeless on my couch. It’s a Tuesday, and I haven’t showered since Friday. This is just one of those things I do to get her to stop loving me. I haven’t plucked my uni-brow, shaved my beard, or brushed my teeth in weeks. (I think I’m getting some cavities in the process) It’s funny how I have to hurt myself to get her to stop hurting me.

It all started sixteen years ago when I went on a road trip to Las Vegas with the boys. It was right after my high school graduation. We got the fake IDs and rolled to Vegas. The night we arrived we dashed to the first nightclub we could see, anxious out of our minds to use the IDs. When we first walked in I noticed an attractive blonde dancing alone by the bar. It was the first night with the fake, so I thought “hey I might as well.” It’s just too bad I didn’t know how much was too much. I approached the bar acting as if I’ve done this before and asked the bartender for the hardest stuff he had. I drank shot after shot trying to impress this girl. It’s too bad I did, and she joined me. The whole time all I had on my mind was taking her back to the hotel, not the wedding chapel. The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hotel room with a broken bottle of champagne and a brutal headache. I looked to my left; saw her in my bed and a ring on my finger. That’s when I realized I was eighteen years old and had a wife. She wouldn’t divorce me because “It was against her values.” But getting drunk with an eighteen year old and marrying him wasn’t? I thought to myself. I couldn’t go to college, couldn’t get a degree and had to get stuck with a s***** job getting paid minimum wage waiting tables at an Arby’s until they finally moved me to assistant manager. She ruined my life. But the worst part is, she nags and doesn’t stop frustrating me. F****** b****.

It is sixteen years later and the b**** is much heavier, wrinklier, and naggier.
“Shut up Janine, I scream as she orders me around” “Just get my snuggie out of the chifforobe please, it’s freezing.” She says. “Get it yourself you fat b****, and its 90 degrees out. What do you need it for?” Again I knew she was just trying to piss me off. “Please sweetie, just get it.” She said one more time. “Don’t call me that, I don’t like you, I’m going out for some air” I tell her as I walk out the door.“Ohh bring me some Chinese.” she says
“Ehh maybe, if I feel like it”
I walk down the street looking at the cement sidewalk noticing how all the black gum stains have tainted the pavement and couldn’t help but to think about my own life and how it’s ruined. I walk in to the Panda Express to get Janine her Chinese food, as I enter I feel the thick and warm and sticky air on my face. I pick up the tray and order her food. Waiting in line for them to put out a new bowl of beef, a girl walks through the door and catches my eye. The warm and thick air suddenly turns crisp and fresh. “Hi” she says as she passes by, “have I seen you before, do you work at the Arby’s on 17th street?” she asks. “Y-Yes, how do you know?” I say hypnotized by her beauty. “Oh well, I work next door in that that big office building, I come there for lunch sometimes. I’m Tanya” she says. “Bill” I say “Ok then next time you are there I’ll be sure to say hello.”
I walk out of the Panda express spellbound. Dig my hand into the bag of the veggie spring rolls and bite down, not thinking about the hell Janine will give for eating her food. Walking into the house I fling the bag in her direction onto the couch and go to my bedroom waiting apprehensively for the next day of work to see Tanya. I hear screams from Janine about her veggie rolls but just tell her to **** off so I can enjoy my moment.
Two weeks pass and I’ve been seeing Tanya at Arby’s 4 times a week. I finally get the courage to ask her out on a date outside of Arby’s and she says yes. We go to some Ethiopian restaurant with nauseating food but the taste doesn’t even matter when I’m around her. Walking home alone from the date I begin to recite those retched wedding vows from sixteen years ago, this time pretending they were for someone else. I’m going through the lines “through sickness and in health…..until death do us part.” The thought lingered around my mind before, the only way to get rid of her, since she won’t divorce me, but I never thought about it seriously until now.
I had hatched a plan, I would do it after my date with Tanya and the b**** would finally be out of my life. Day in and day out I thought about the plan and it was finally time. I am at dinner with Tanya at an Italian place. Tanya requests a bottle of red wine and the both of us gulp the whole thing down. The night is going according to plan but I think I might be a little intoxicated, no I am drunk. I bring her home and tell her to stay in my room. I go check to see the fat **** is still asleep in her room. She is and it is time to get rid of her. My drunk self totally disregards the fact that I brought Tanya home. I choose to kill Janine with a knife, the only slow and painful way. With the knife in my hands, and every light off, I stumble upon a chair but I proceed with the plan. I slowly creep into the room and see her faint image and decide to strike quickly. When I stabbed, there is a loud yelp a bloody mess, I cover everything but her face and decide to give her a kiss goodbye. As I kiss her, I notice her face feels a little less pudgy, and her hair a little more curly. These thoughts finally hit me, the realization of my worst nightmares. My drunken self has yet again made another mistake that would change the remainder of my life. Enraged with myself I take the only way out and push the knife through my chest.

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