Ok first you must get married to the meanest woman you can get your hands on. I don't mean kinda mean, I am talking about the type of woman who will pick the biggest man in any venue and decide that his girlfriend is a whore, and she's gonna tell everyone about it really LOUDLY. This is the type of fear that you need to live in to understand what is to follow. Now that you have done that proceed to 4 days later, where you are finally off to Niagara Falls (don't tell the third wife I did a Niagara Falls honeymoon ... she thinks it was original idea for her) for that honey moon you had always desired. Fun ... Frolic ... Wedding Gown Model with Anna Nicole's figure ... all we need now is to interject the Dunkin Donuts franchise. You see this is how it went from MY perspective at this point ...
I ordered the X-TRA LARGE Black Coffee (for those who know Dunkin Donuts it's FLAMING hot) and was still holding out my hand to receive it when the woman dumped the entire thing in my lap. The pain was without a doubt, the worst thing imaginable, my mind was racing but I did the first thing that came to my mind ... I jumped out of the car and ripped my pants down. Mind you this is a Saturday night at about 10:30 so the place is packed and I am jumping around screaming with my pants around my ankles. MENTAL NOTE: It always helps to draw attention to yourself when you have your pants down in public. Please keep in mind that this is only phase one.
I can still hear the bitching the whole way to the hospital ... this is going to ruin the honeymoon ... why'd ya have to ruin the honeymoon ... blah blah blah blah. Now on the trip to Exeter Hospital (a wonderful establishment with a rather PACKED waiting room) I had burned my arm on the zipper of the pants now to. Had I mentioned that it was Saturday night nearing 11pm? Now mind you the only thing going through my mind still is the bitchy wife and the blisters forming all over my shmekie ( a word I discovered when trying to explain the event to my mother), so I had no problem walking into the packed waiting room, pants around ankles, with one of my work shirts wrapped around my waist, because I hadn't quite lost enough pride in the Seabrook DD parking lot and realized that jumping around nakid is embarrassing.
The wonderful waiting room was just a short stay really, since burn victims usually get top priority, but all the rooms were filled. I had a wonderful little triage set up for me off to the side of this incredibly packed waiting room with curtains around me. The nurse insisted that I be restrained because the burns were bad enough to get infected pretty easily, so I was restrained and de-clothed.
Now the meanest woman on earth has decided to go call her father to cry about how I had ruined the honeymoon so I was left alone to be introduced to little Jeffrey. I hate Jeffrey. I only know Jeffrey's name because all you heard that entire night was .. Jeffrey No .. Jeffrey Stop .. Jeffrey .. Jeffrey, and I am sure that there is a lot of Ritalin keeping that kid in school these days, but I digress, let's get back to how "Jeffrey" is a valuable part of the pride removal technique that is being explained. You see ADHD (and evil) Jeffrey liked to open things ... as a matter of fact .. the first time he opened my curtain so that the whole waiting room could see my nakid blistering goodies, I had barely noticed at all, the laughing and sniggering was the dead give away. Now it was the next 3 times that he had done it that were kinda making me the president of "Operation Kill Jeffrey". His mother I think was thrilled that Jeffrey had found something to amuse himself if you ask me.
Now the meanest woman EVAH has come back again. She reminds me once again that I ruined the honeymoon, so I guess we are still on speaking terms anyway. She did keep Jeffrey from opening my curtain, so I have to say that she did do something nice for me, but the absolute worst is yet to come. As I lay there ... in walks ... and I am not kidding ... this will NEVER happen to me again ... The hottest, porn star looking nurse, miniskirt, lines up the back of her stockings (she could have at least had heels on but why should I be picky) and SHE is here to rub cream on MY shmekie ... IN FRONT OF THE MEANEST WOMAN WHO EVER LIVED. Oh Gawd save me I can still feel the eyes bulging out of my head (the big one) in terror knowing that this woman I swore to love forever is going to kill ME if I enjoy this so much as a little. I am trapped between what every (strait) man has ever dreamed of ... and what every man (probably even the gay ones) fear more than anything!!!
The pride started lifting out of me like steam at this point ... It took me many years to start looking at that as funny ... which it was, but the point I should have taken from the whole night, beside the lack of pride I have had ever since, was what happened when my ex wife and I got home. I managed to crawl into bed and finally get comfortable. She came in, now mind you I was pretty sick of hearing how I ruined the honeymoon at this point, but she said something totally different to me at that point. She looked at me, that scowl that I sooooooo truly miss, and said "So I guess I don't get sex tonight?" This in turn became her favorite way to have foreplay for the entire time we were married, the ol' "Jump into bed and say 'I guess I don't get sex tonight'" Ooooooo Baby ;8o)