Our Own "Born" Identity (continued)

So the deal was struck.

We set the date (my only official day off) and the time then hammered out the plan. We would take the train together, she helping me with directions/language etc., then I would ride my junker back solo. It all seemed quite sensible. Logical, even.

It may shock no one but on the evening previous to the date (my only Holiday I would like to remind one and all) I imbibed a mythic amount of sophisticated Adult beverages before repairing to my slumber. Needless to say, I was in something akin to less-than-perfect condition the following morning…..well……..actually…………early afternoon.

The plain fact is that I was paralyzed, almost comatose, just barely capable of basic motor function and absolutely stripped of any ability to operate at a recognizably Human level. Eat, drink, piss, shit, this was about all I could manage. If the building were to catch fire I would have never made it out alive.

The Wife was eerily calm.

Breakfast was served, coffee followed and I accomplished these tasks heroically, I thought. I was becoming quite proud of myself. She, however, did not appear to be impressed by my agonizing recovery from wanton self-destruction. After my second cup she spoke.

“So let’s leave in an hour and that should give us plenty of time…….OK?”

I regarded her as a novice climber might regard Mt. Everest looking up from the bottom.

“Yea………….you know………………fuck that.”

Let it not be said that at crucial moments I lack eloquence.

The Storm began to build. At first she gently urged then softly requested then sincerely implored then desperately demanded and finally furiously commanded me to live up to our deal and make good on my promise as I sat there and vegetated over my caffeine. I needed to crawl back under the covers and hide from all that Life might offer, she was working herself into a frenzy of energy and determination. That bike would be hers and no Man or God would stop her. I was harnessing all the power and mobility of a stone dead battery so, suffice to say, we were somewhat at odds.

Names were called, epithets exchanged, curses shared.

Finally she called the play.

“FUCK YOU……If you don’t get up right now then I’m going to get that bike by myself and you can GO TO HELL!”

She grabbed her keys and made for the door.

She was holding a Full House- Aces over Kings. I had a handful of garbage. I folded.

I have a minor skill of which I am inordinately proud. It is my standing boast that I can get showered, flossed, brushed and dressed, making myself presentable to the World-at-Large and ready for photo opportunities, under any conditions in 5 minutes or less.
As she stormed towards the door I put that skill to good use.

My point is this.

Had any Man called my bluff I would’ve certainly laughed in his face as he hit the door. Were Force used I would’ve been happy, if not quite able, to answer with equal or greater Force.
There was nothing I wanted, nowhere I wanted to go and nobody who could’ve made me anyway.

But when She called me out………

“Then figure it out then.”

Women have a strength that calls us to action as no other can. Politicians, Presidents, Bosses, Bullies, enemies, friends or neighbors, they can all spit into the wind but her words show me where to place my feet and raise my fists.

Her words say.

Get in the Game, Man……’cuz we need you!

And, of course, as is so often the case in these matters, it turned out to be a beautiful day.