Tricolon (tri-co-lon): Three parallel elements of the same length occurring together in a series.
I won. I lost. I left. This is the story of my life. It started at Falling Star Casino. I would win—way ahead after a night of blackjack. Then, I’d bet all my winnings on the wheel of fortune—one spin. I would never win. Then, I’d leave and go home. This same pattern occurred over and over again. I didn’t care. I am bipolar, and that’s the way I rolled.
I had won my wife in a competition with Jerry Flax. We were the “Wooing Kings.” We both wanted her. She would trade back and forth between us. When she was with Jerry, I’d pace the floor, smoke and watch porno carrying my laptop around my living room. When I got tired of that, I’d sit at the kitchen table and clean the .357 my dad had given me for high school graduation. He handed it to me with a box of bullets and said, “Kill some’thin son.” After I finished cleaning my pistol, I would just sit there and anguish.
It was my turn to be with Lucretia on Friday night. I had to win her once and for all. I came up with a plan! I would pay her to marry me! I took out a loan from the local bank for $10,000 with a ten year payout. $10,000! She couldn’t resist!
We were making out in my car when I pulled away and asked her “Lucretia, how would you like $10.000?” She said, “I don’t care how much you pay me, I’m a good girl and you can keep that thing in your pants.” I said, “No, no. You misunderstood me. I want you. I need you. I love you. I want you to marry me. I thought $10,000 would pave the way to a life of bliss.” “You want to pay me to marry you? That is the stupidest idea I ever heard of. What am I, a Big Mac? Take me home!” I said, “Wait! How about we just get married without the payout?” She said yes. It was crazy, but that’s how it happened. I won!
Two weeks after we were married, she ran off with Jerry Flax. He had offered her a house, a new car, a sewing machine, and a couple of kids. I made one last stab at getting her back. I went to their house and used a bullhorn to beg her to come back to me. She stuck her head out a window and yelled “Take a hike ant brain—Jerry’s the one!”
I lost!
I gave up.
I left and went home. I cleaned my .357 and listened to Hendrix’s “Hey Joe” over and over again.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu.
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