I live adjacent to Money Town. Money Town is a gate guarded community. The guards at the gates are idiots, but they wear a name tag saying GUARD which makes them official.
I share the same Starbucks, grocery, and community stores with the Money Town folks. For over 15 years my kids played sports in various Money Town sports leagues. I like to make fun of the more absurd personalities Money Town offers, but the truth of the matter is I take for granted the general essence of Money Town itself.
Last Friday PR had a baseball game at the Money Town Sports Park. His team was playing against a Money Town Team. Over the years both of my boys have played many games there. My car accident
, in fact, occurred as I left one day after dropping PR at practice at this very same park. To this day my stomach clenches in knots from the memory every time I'm there. I have to take a deep breath each time I leave the park and re-enter the intersection where my life was left shattered right alongside my shoulder.
When PR was 12 we made a parental decision to remove him from Money Town baseball leagues for reasons I won't bore you with today. Since that time we frequently comment about the fact PR now plays in "normal" leagues with "normal" people instead of surrounded by Money Town's finest. (I'm pissing Money Town people off as I write this … I can FEEL it. To be honest? It's not the first time!)
The truth is, most Money Town people are a different breed of people. They're sort of like their very own civilization. Heh …
I'm going to take a short detour here so you'll understand my state of mind at PR's game last Friday. Earlier in the day I had visited with my surgeon for my MRI results. I won't go into all the blah, blah, blah about that right now. However, before I left he did a procedure on me which included inserting a thirty foot (maybe forty foot?) needle through my shoulder joint and injecting me with Shit That Hurts Like Hell. Then he told me to go home, "take lots of pain meds, ice [my] arm and do nothing but rest and enjoy the drugs for the remainder of the weekend."
I went home and reported my status to Briefcase. Then I took lots of drugs, had no time for ice or rest, and went to PR's game at the Money Town park high as a kite. By that, I mean I was really out of my mind and extremely happy (if somewhat confused) on all those drugs. I'm not used to them anymore because I rarely take them now.
Really, you know what everyone around here wants? They all want to watch me high and with no mouth control whatsoever in Money Town. It's kind of like a train wreck. You want to look away, but you just … can't.
Briefcase later told me he looked into the bleachers where I was seated and saw me "holding court" for the other families on PR's team. He said everyone was in stitches laughing
at with me. I don't really remember much at all. I only remember snippets over the few hours I was there.
I might have talked
nonstop a lot and laughed even more.
I might have told a few
zillion Money Town anecdotes.
I might have thought we were halfway through the game and tied 2-2 when the game was actually over and PR's team had won 5-0.
Someone might have laughed and asked exactly what game I had been at while everyone else was at the game right there in Money Town. And then just maybe everyone laughed and asked if I'd had a good time at whatever game I'd been to.
When I think back on it I realize how odd Money Town must have seemed to many of those nice, normal families who had never been there before. One man commented incredulously regarding the enormous homes he'd seen as he drove to the Sports Park. One man asked if the front yard he'd seen "really belonged to a person" or whether it was a golf course. (At first I thought he did mean the Money Town golf course, but then I realized he was indeed talking about someone's front yard.) Several of the women commented on "the fancy cars" and "oh my, the WOMEN here!"
It made me realize how much of my surroundings I don't even see anymore.
During the game I got up to stretch my legs. I saw a woman walking in the park and I sent the following out on Twitter:
There's a woman here with fake boobs that are big enough to reach to Chicago.
What I didn't say was that she had on a skin tight tank top that said "Money Town" across her enormous fake boobs.
I found it so tacky … it would be like having, "I'm Filthy Rich" printed across your chest in any other town. Classless.
The woman smiled at me. I stared at her in my drugged stupor. I was thinking how ridiculous she looked with her enormous chest, her plastic face, her liposuctioned body and her tight Money Town shirt on. She said hello, and I replied, "hi." She seemed too friendly. I wondered if she was hitting on me. She winked.
OMG! Big Tits was hitting on me!
I went back to the bleachers and reported to one of my friends that Big Tits wanted me.
She winked at me!
Yes, I was THAT drugged.
Because REALLY? What a rich, plastic Money Town woman wants is not a drugged up poor woman from outside the gates. (That'
s how Money People talk … you're a loser if you're from outside the gates.)
Right after Big Tits hit on me things got busy.
Briefcase invited 20+ people over to our house after the game without warning me ahead of time. (I had no food, etc. in the house and ended up ordering pizzas.) Briefcase did this because in his mind when my doctor says I should do nothing but rest it somehow translates into my wife would love to entertain 20+ unexpected guests tonight when she's in a lot of pain.
It's just another example of the fine communication skills that develop between a couple when they've been married for many years.
It wasn't until around midnight when Briefcase turned to me and said, "Oh, I saw you saying hello to Ms. Bitch today at the park."
"Ms. Bitch?" I asked.
And that's when it hit me. Big Tits? Big Tits was actually a
bitch woman I've known for six or seven years named Ms. Bitch. She's had so much plastic surgery done recently I didn't even recognize her. Would I have recognized her if I hadn't been so drugged up? I doubt it. She is only a ghost of her former self. When she winked and said hello she wasn't hitting on me. She just wanted me to see the "new" her.
I'm still floored. How could I not have known? I mean, just because she had a new face, boobs, stomach, ass and thighs ….
A change of identity like this is commonplace in Money Town. And yet, I still can't believe Big Tits and Ms. Bitch are the same person.
© Twenty Four At Heart