Chapter Forty; Here's to you, Mrs. Powerball (Susie's Eye Candy Adventure)

“I am going to change my name.”

“Oh yeah, to what?”

“I am thinking Susie Lotto. Susie Powerball.”

In other words Susie’s divorce is taking longer than Chinese water torture.

I was lucky. When my ex and I divorced, we sat down at the kitchen table with a legal pad, drew a line down the middle and hashed everything out in an hour. I took that piece of paper to an attorney and six weeks later, marital demise delivered.

Sweet freedom. And all for the bargain price of $1,500.

Susie is not having that experience. And obviously she is in the midst of settlement discussions so I have been ordered to stay gagged.

Someone get me a cookie. This is quite a feat for endlessly yakking/typing me.

But it doesn’t mean I can’t write about an adventure or two she and I have had, which is exactly what I plan to do right now. Because honestly? I don’t know how I would have survived this past year if it wasn’t for my curly haired savior. I laugh so much around this woman I should consider buying stock in Depends as I have just come to expect, with Susie in the room, I am going to pee my pants.

It’s just true.

My favorite Susie story ever involves a practically pedophile moment at a bowling alley.

Here’s how it went down:

One snowy night last December . . .

Susie had just gotten on the Divorce Land highway and it was apparent this was going to be one long ass road trip. And as her bestest Divorce Land bud, I agreed to ride shot gun but only if she would allow me to be in charge of the activities to help the time pass more enjoyably. At the top of my list was hopping from bar to bar, many martinis, and some harmless ogling.

Our night on the town, with me as her sober tour guide/designated driver, was a blast. I fed that woman so many mind numbing hypno-tinis, she almost forgot the divorce hell that was her life.

I am a good, good friend.

At the end of our successful divorce anesthesia outing I announce, “Oh, I almost forgot! I want to take you to the bowling alley!”

“The bowling alley?!?” she slurs.

“Yes, abso-damn-lutely,” I confirm, and then explain my plotting, “There is this college kid from my gym who is a sweetie, and on top of that he’s adorable. I knew you would appreciate some distraction tonight so when I saw him at the gym today I asked him if he would be out tonight. I told him I have a friend getting divorced who could use some eye candy. I am sure he thinks I am a wacko old woman but he just laughed and told me he’s working at the bowling alley so I vote we stalk him so you can just drool.”

“A kid? You want me to go drool over a kid?”

“Well he’s over twenty one so its totally legal saliva production.” I rationalize.

She mumbles something about a cougar and the fact that I am absolutely a nut but nevertheless agrees to my little adventure.

I drag her high heeled buzzed ass through the snowy parking lot and lead her into the bowling alley.

I see him right away, “There he is!” I run up to gym boy and announce, “Hey Kris! I want you to meet my friend, Susie, I told you about.”

Susie and Kris just stare at each other.

Kris hesitantly asks, “Mrs. Swenson?”

Susie stutters, “Kris Bergstrom?”

I am a little slow on the processing and simply ask, “What? You two know each other?”

Susie is instantly sober, her eyes huge and mortified as she states, “Um. I taught Kris. In fifth grade.”

(Pause here to fall on the floor in hysterics if you will because that’s precisely what I did at that very moment.)

Susie is an elementary school teacher. And she is almost forty. The thought NEVER even crossed my mind in a million years that she is old enough to have former students who are now legal.

I have but one response:

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Kris is instantly giddy and clearly thrilled to see his old teacher, “How have you been, Mrs. Swenson? It’s great to see you!”

“Uh, I’m fine, Kris. You?”

“I’m great. Sorry to hear you’re getting divorced. That sucks.”

I love this town and its half degree of separation.

I need to get a diet coke, so I abandon Susie in the land of mortification and slip away chuckling to myself. (Does this place serve popcorn? I could so just sit back and watch the show at this point. This. Is awesome.)

Two minutes later Susie sidles up to me at the bar and begins to shriek in a whisper, “I am going to die! I am absolutely going to die! I TAUGHT HIM! You told him I am the divorcing friend who needs some freaking eye candy? I am going to be sick. Sick! Sick! Sick!”

I think she is hysterical.

I collect myself only long enough only state, “Listen here, Mary Key Laterneau, its fine.”

“Don’t call me that! I am going to barf!”

“Oh, come on! It’s harmless!”

“It is gross! I am grossed out!”

“You are being ridiculous. He’s an adult and he’s cute. So what? I never propositioned him. Although I should have,” I look over my shoulder, “Damn. Do you not see how cute he is?”

“Don’t say that! He is not cute! He can’t be cute! He is Kris Bergstrom! I gave him detention thirteen years ago! Detention!”

Susie is now hoarse from trying to stifle her screaming.

I am so freaking entertained by her horror I can barely reply.

“Quit laughing!” she orders.

“I can’t! I can’t!” I confess between giggles.

Kris is actually heading up some gambling table so I announce I am going to go hang out with the child. Try to get his side of the detention story. She can join me if she wants.

“Don’t . . .wait . . we have to go . . .argh! Don’t go over there!” she begs as I saunter away sipping my diet coke and smirking like a bitch.

Like I am not going to prolong this situation? Absolutely! This is hilarious! I am so dragging this out as long as possible.

Kris is funny and teaches me how to play this gambling game that looks a lot like something on the Price is Right. Susie stays at the bar, talking on her cell phone to God knows who at this hour trying to avoid any further contact with her former student. I think she is only pretending to talk on the phone actually. She is that humiliated.

I text her to get her ass over here.

She finally comes over and I tell Susie all the things about Kris that proves he is smarter than a fifth grader: what his major is, how he’s going overseas soon, what his plans are for the summer. Susie suffers through the conversation, nodding attentively but clearly trying to hide her shame which only perpetuates my personal enjoyment of the scene.

Susie reluctantly agrees to gamble too and actually ends up winning $40 from Kris. I decide this is a great note to end her torturous night on and Susie’s relief is apparent as we head out.

“It was great to see you again, Mrs. Swenson!” Kris yells to us as we depart.

“You too, Kris!” Susie calls back with the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen.

Two minutes later two cackling women are running back through an icy parking lot giggling like a couple of teenagers.

That night has since become Divorce Land legend, but I had to pinky swear promise to never again inflict my “alleged” cougar ways upon Susie again.

Oh fine. I promise.

Because Susie may very well be all for changing her name these days, but I guess Mrs. Robinson is certainly not going to be one of the options she will consider.

So here to you, Mrs. Powerball.