Divorced Dating and Damn Drama Read Online Free PDF

grand?" She demands.
    "I have a problem" I admit. "I just feel obliged to stick up for those being offended." I say meekly.
    "Then give him the two grand. What do I care" She storms out. She is right. I saw this guy as scum, so why does that change when cheer captain makes fun of him? He is still a douche. Why do I feel the need to defend the underdog, when clearly the underdog has nothing going for him? He is not an underdog if you think about it. I am. He was the one who bullied me for two grand, and then when I refused he continued to pick on me relentlessly. This does count as harassment, right? So why do I feel bad making fun of him?
    People normally love giving out information. It validates them. I did this, accomplished that, hey you check it out. Me on the other hand, I hate it. I hate it because there is only so much drama I can take. Once they see your work they don't just judge it, but you as well. Oh, you work for Gossip Magazine, well I hate that. It's so anti-men and the women are all heifers. Judging is fun. Better now than never right? Wrong. They take what you feel pride in and they rip it to shreds. Like the dogs they are.

Chapter eight
    One of my many exploits lead to me a man who saw himself as a king. His name was Henry; yes that is the same name as my ex. It is weird, but I feel I shouldn't discard a man purely based on his name, right? Henry had a strong manly jaw line with just enough whiskers to accent his strong bone structure. His eyes were a deep hazel green. His brows were dark and thick resting ever so slightly above his eyes. He has a musky manly sent, probably from working at the motorcycle repair shop. He exuded confidence, from the way he walked to the way he commanded the room. I was impressed, such confidence, how could I not be. Little did I know he didn't see me as his queen. We went out to a nice upscale restaurant, you know, Denny's. He talked about this and that. I was engaging, laughing at his non funny jokes. His cup became empty and he asked me what he should do.
    I said, "Wait and someone will come along." I adjust my weight so I appear taller. I smooth my skirt under the table debating whether or not to play footsie with him. Do people my age do that? Play footsie that is.
    "I am a king, and a king never waits." Henry says with authority. An awkward silence ensued. I discretely look around me. Did anyone hear him? Is he making another joke? It's hard to tell, none of his jokes were funny so maybe he is making a joke. "You need to go fetch me a new root beer." Henry bellows. Really? I need to do this? I am generally confused on what exactly is going on.
    "Yeah, no, you can just wait." I say, trying to laugh it off. Henry then gets belligerent. Is it just me or is he trying to mimic my ex husband. I admit it's a little creepy.
    "You need to stop being selfish, learn your place and get me a root beer." Henry shouts with a roar of thunder. Wow! Now everyone is staring. I wish I was a turtle, and then I could just poke my head into my shell and hope he leaves. But I am not a turtle, sadly, so I must speak. I'm not really a confrontational person but I think everyone can take offence when they hear the words "learn your place."
    "Hello, this is a date, your majesty. Your name may be Henry but you are not the king of France. In fact we are not in France. We are in a little place called America. There are no kings here! " I shout. This is where he throws down his napkin and storms out. I would say I got a standing ovation, but I didn't. In fact I had to pay his part of the bill. Things w ork great in the movies but in reality they just suck.
    That night I was spilling my guts on Sara's shoulder. Her sweater is so soft. Is it Cashmere? I look up at her and she nods. Can she read my mind? Creepy, but anyways how can she afford silk? Back to me being upset. My mascara is running as I tell her that I was not his Queen. It is the stupid stuff I get upset about. There is no logical reason to be