To My Unrelenting Spouse Who Has Been Exiled To The Basement
At some point during these past few months, as we bickered through the lips of our lawyers and divided between us the things that don’t actually matter (like that four-foot ceramic gargoyle in the upstairs bathroom and that repulsive painting depicting topless clowns you insisted hang in the hall), you’ve hidden something very precious to me.
Throughout our marriage, I’ve typically enjoyed and often participated in your shenanigans (So innovative! Truly!), but as our marriage is now over, so is my amusement.
Since the map you’ve kindly drawn up for me on my vintage Prada blouse using my red Channel lipstick seems to be instructing me to search for this irreplaceable trinket in your pants (a location I’ve sworn never to return to), I’m going to have to forego the scavenger hunt. I know, I know. I ruin all the fun!
Instead, I propose a trade. The thing in your pants (No not that you perv!), in exchange for the safe return of your priceless Fisher Space Pen collection. Yes, that’s right darling! I drove all the way to Queens just to hijack your mint-in-box, never-been-touched, revered collection of writing utensils from your parent’s house.
The boxes were just lying there, right where your mom told me they’d be: under that loose floorboard in the closet of your old…
