Déjà vu

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Déjà vu

Sunday morning, I was laying in bed with my formerly estranged girlfriend, Faith, when her currently estranged husband, Dagwood, showed up at my door, all the way from Oakland, California.  I knew this would not end well.

"What should I do?" I asked Faith.  "Do you think if we wait, he'll just go away?" 

Faith shook her head, "No, he won't."  Her beautiful face was hard and her eyes were dark and calculating.  "Let's just get dressed and let him in."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"It’s the only thing to do.  It would be much worse to have him lurking around downstairs.  God, I hate that smarmy, slimy man.  He is like a cockroach.  When you think you’re finally rid of him, here he comes again."

As if to emphasize the point, the door buzzer began to ring nonstop.  Faith pushed "Talk" on the intercom and shouted into it, "Wait a goddamn minute, will you, Dagwood?" Then she grinned at me.  "He hates it when I take the Lord's name in vain, which is exactly why I do it."

How she could grin at a time like that, I had no idea, but where I felt stressed, like there was a noose about to be tied around my neck, she seemed as untroubled as if we were going for a lakeside picnic.

"Listen Sissy," she said to me, fully serious, "I know I've given you plenty of reasons not to trust me in the past."

Talk about your understatements.  As recently as two days before, she'd admitted to having secretly read my journal.

"I really need you trust me right now when I tell you that I love you, and only you," she went on.  "You are the only person I have ever cared about, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Can you please believe me?"

"Yes," I said, and I wish I could have sung it.  We kissed, long, hard and deep.  As though Dagwood could guess what we are up to, he rang the buzzer again, but only once.

"OK, let him in," Faith said. 

"Should I have a weapon of some kind handy, just in case?”

She laughed at this.  “No, Dagwood is way too cowardly to try anything physically abusive.  That is not his strong suit.  He lives through mental intimidation, and he’s a master at it.”

Encouraged by her sincere seeming profession of love and armed with new confidence, I buzzed Dagwood in.

When I