Ranting by Dolomite

     Hello, loyal readers. It is I, the great and wondrous Dolomite. As I sit here typing away at an article to amuse you, I cannot help but feel depressed. Why are you depressed, you may be asking? Was it not you who once started a brawl with a feminist because she called the Duke a pig like every other man (he is far more than anything any other man is)? Was it not you who once began looking for a nymphomaniac help group to find some easy women? Was it not you who once returned fire to some uppity monkeys at the Cleveland Zoo, only to be dragged away, pants still around your ankles, by the security? Yes, loyal readers, that was me in all of those occasions. But something horrible has happened to me in the last month. It occurred because of Hallmark. It happened on Valentine's Day.
     Now, as we all know, Valentine's Day is one of the most annoying holidays to ever exist. There could be a "Smash Your Own Toe" holiday, and people everywhere would look forward to it, well more than they would Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day is the one holiday that reminds the single people that they are indeed very single. And ladies and gentlemen, Dolomite was single this Valentine's Day.


     It all started the Tuesday before that horrible Thursday. I was just eating lunch with a hot coworker when we got on the subject of the past weekend and such. She complained as to how both her roommates had their boyfriends over and she had to leave the apartment because she couldn't take the noise after the first hour. I asked why she didn't go over to her boyfriend's place (We men assume that hot girls have boyfriends. It gives us a reason to not bother getting shot down by them). She laughed and said that she had been single for over a three months and that I was the closest thing she had to a guy in her life. Score one for Dolomite (or so I thought).
     Later that night, I was out, getting a few cards for my lesbian friends and decided to take a chance and believe that that little line from the extremely hot Elaine (my coworker) was a hint/signal for the upcoming Holiday. I decided to tip the scales in my favor with a few chocolate covered strawberries. I also remembered another single colleague of mine. While not as hot as Elaine, she had a nice rack, a decent ass, and was into perverted things like porn and phone sex. I went and got her some chocolate in the shape of penises. I figured it was good for a laugh and a plausible Plan B. The total for the night came to about $20. Normally, that would be considered a cheap price to pay, but I only had thirty in the bank and really needed to get some gas in my car and some food in my cupboards.

     Wednesday comes by and I am at work. At work is also Jenny (Plan B). We are talking and laughing and I cannot help but notice that she is nearly glowing. Like any fool, I ask. She tries to put it off that she isn't glowing. She just smiles and walks off. Curiosity begins to grow inside me, as well as a growing ego. Let's face it, whenever a woman is happy, every man nearby will begin to believe that it is in some small part because of him. This follows the same logic as why men get paranoid and worried when they see women giggling together in groups and pointing toward the men. While I begin to wonder what type of Greek God I was in a former life, Jenny's roommate comes over and asks me why I am so happy all of a sudden. I tell her why, and she laughs in my face. That one hurt, but not as much as the reason why she was so happy. Turns out, Jenny has been chatting online now for about a month with some kid down in Texas. The old Texan (like he is really from Texas) called her the night before and they talk for about an hour and Kris was not allowed in the room while they were talking. I think we all know what happened in the room. Plan B officially was canceled.
     The horrible morning that followed began with a slow trek over to the cafeteria to see Elaine. I knew she was working and figured I would hit her at her with her gifts and take the pain like a man. To say that I was optimistic at this point would be a lie. As I trudged through the door, I could not see Elaine. I asked the nearest cook and she told me that Elaine was in the back crying. I asked if it was anything bad. The cook just shrugged. I ran back into the kitchen and saw Elaine sitting on a stool, her face streaked with tears, with a cup of coffee in her trembling hands. I'll admit it, my heart moved then. It soared because this looked like the perfect time to be Mr. Hero.
     I walked over to Elaine and bent down to look her in the eyes. They looked bloodshot. I smiled and said in a slightly loud voice, "Happy Valentine's Day." She managed a smile in return. I asked her how her day had gone so far (I did not want her too happy to begin with). She began to sob and told me how her ex-boyfriend had been in and his new girlfriend had a bouquet of flowers and they didn't even eat. They just came in to show her that they were so happy and everything. I smiled. I couldn't help it. I told her to close her eyes. As she did, I got out the wrapped package of chocolate covered strawberries and the lovey-dovey card I picked out. When she opened her eyes, she smiled and began to say that I shouldn't have. As she tore open the package, I could here an announcer coming on inside my head. And number 69 steps up to the plate. He's been due a hit for a while and it looks like he is ready to get his dues paid now. Elaine's smile turned upside down and she told me she was allergic to strawberries. Strike one and the batter looks dumbfounded. I don't think he saw that one coming. Then Elaine opened the card and read the original poem I wrote inside. She gave me a big hug and I held her cheek to cheek. It looks like the batter has got back into the box and is ready for the next pitch. Then Elaine told me what a great friend I was. Strike Two! The pitcher winds up with the next pitch. Then she kept going about and told me she wished she could meet a nice, funny guy like me someday. And the pitch nails number 69 in the family jewels. That has got to hurt. I don't think he'll be running the bases anytime soon. He'll be lucky to make it back to the dugout after this one. I told her that I was glad she felt that way (a half-truth, only because I knew it could have been worse, somehow) and that I had a few other errands to run that day.
     As I was making my way back to the apartment to go back to sleep, I ran into Kerry, a girl I got drunk with a few times. She ran over, gave me a big hug, and told me all about what her new girlfriend got her (Kerry was bi-sexual). I nodded and began to feel sick inside. I remembered why I once made plans to assassinate the heads of the Hallmark Corporation. Before I could make it back to the apartment, I saw Jenny standing on the sidewalk, holding a dozen yellow roses. She noticed me and rushed over. She began telling me about how Shawn (the Texan) had managed to find out her favorite color and sent her a dozen roses for this special holiday. She also told me that his band might soon have a contract and we might all be hearing them on MTV sometime soon. Well, if that is true, I just hope that they are standing between N'SYNC and Christina when that mercy bomb finally takes them all out of our lives.

Dolomite



  • Subject:  Dolomite
  • Name:  Unknown at present
  • E-mail:  BKDolo10@aol.com
  • Age:  CXXVI in dog years
  • Turn-Ons:  Porn, Humor and good food
  • Turn-Offs:  Bad Taste, Religious fanatics that go door-to-door, Idiots, Jerks, Prejudice (except against Catholics and the French)
  • Plans for Future:  Become President, breed either flying cat or walking bat (bat + cat somehow), play golf drunk, masturbation

  • messageboard feedback

    interview | to forum | email | BACK
    © 1998-2002 - Dolomite / the-hold.com - all rights reserved
    [ TOP ]