Kategoria (ka-te-go’-ri-a): Opening the secret wickedness of one’s adversary before his [or her] face.
“You cheated, you lied, you said that you loved me.” I figured confronting her in song would heighten the impact of what I was about to do.
All of her secret running around had torn my heart into confetti, and I was ready to throw it in her face.
We were going to meet down by the river where many distraught men had shot, or bludgeoned, or drowned their unfaithful wives and lovers. I was going for bludgeoning. I was a hands-on man. I was a mechanic at “Cars & Pars.” We repaired automobiles and golf carts from the local public golf course. I was a transmission specialist. I dealt primarily with slippage—tightening the inner bands that make autos move and pressure plates on manual transmission cars that do likewise. My one-inch box wrench will put her down.
My plan to throw confetti in her face. Then, I use my torn up heart saying, followed by “you cheated, you lied, and finally, beat her over the head with my wrench and drag her her into the river.
She pulled at 8.00pm as agreed. She got out of her car and walked up to me. I reached in my paper bag, got a handful of confetti and threw it in her face. She squeezed “Oh honey! You remembered it’s our second end anniversary,! How romantic! Come here and for great big kiss!” I was taken aback. I dropped the wrench and did as she said.
My plan went completely awry. She got me. I was blind sided by what she said. My hostility melted away. We went to the most expensive restaurant in town, “To-fusion+” a Japanese place with fifty kinds of tofu prepared with accents from different cultures and ethnicities. I ordered Southern-fried tofu and she ordered Tikka-tofu. In the heat of the moment, I proposed. She accepted. We got married.
POSTSCRIPT
I’m serving a life sentence in Huntsville State Prison for murder. I caught her banging the counter guy from Cliff’s. When I burst into our bedroom and caught her, she said “You finally made it! Join in the fun honey.” It almost worked, but I shot him and beat her over the head with my wrench instead. I threw a handful of confetti on their bodies and dialed 911.
The moral of the story: “Never give anybody a second chance.“
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