Euche (yoo’-kay): A vow to keep a promise.
“I promise to always love and obey you. I will never let you down. You are a ray of optimism in my otherwise dismal life. I am yours forever. I will never cheat,” I read this to Sarah off my “romance” notecard last night. She bought it. Reading the promise gives it an air of solemnity that enhances its credibility and sweeps my target listener away. I usually break the promise in about a week or sooner. I take her out to dinner and read the “break-up” note after I’ve paid the bill: “I have found now that promises are flimsy bridges built toward an unknowable future, that are bound to collapse under life’s pressure and the sweet temptations that blot them out and erase them from our lives.” Usually, while she’s crying, I give her my napkin to dry her eyes and text my next paramour to set up a date, usually, for the next day.
Sarah didn’t take the break-up speech very well. That is, she wasn’t crying so I couldn’t do the napkin thing, so I started to get up and leave. She yelled “You fu*king piece of shit!” Everybody in the restaurant stopped eating and turned to look. I sat back down and she threw the candle from the table at me. It hit me in the forehead, singed my hair, and splattered my face with hot wax. Then, she sprayed me with pepper spray. I was so shocked and filled with pain that I couldn’t move. Then, she started reciting my romance promise notecard verbatim.
As I listened, it was like my life was passing in front of my eyes. I thought of my mother who was a pathological liar, always telling me how great I was going to be, suckering me into buying her just “one more” bottle of gin. And my father who was a porno star, who told me love was about one thing and one thing only, and it wasn’t love, it was leave. Anyway, I learned to be how I am from the people I loved, but who didn’t love me.
My eyes were burning and tearing. I needed to give some kind of make-up speech on the fly to come out a winner. I said: “Oh Sarah, you’ve taught me the biggest lesson of my life. Now I can see what loser I am. Please accept my apology for breaking the promise I made to you. I promise it will never never happen again.” I smiled and some of the wax cracked off my face.
Sarah sprayed me again with the pepper spray, hit me in the face with her salad plate, and got up to leave. I yelled “Two can play this game.” And threw the remains of my T-bone steak at her. I missed and it hit one of the guys at the next table in the back of the head. He stood up and I thought he has going to beat me to a pulp. Instead, he said, “Come on Sarah, I’ll take you home. You were right about this scum bag.” They hugged for a couple of seconds, and then left the restaurant holding hands.
I was devastated. For once, my ruse hadn’t worked. I needed to change my tactics. Maybe just plain lying would work better.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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