Harper Valley Redux

Nobody really liked her; however, that didn’t stop her from sashaying (like a cat in heat) out onto the stage, wearing the tightest, shortest (Harper Valley PTA sleazy) hooker red dress we – or probably anyone else for that matter – had ever seen, to accept (without any reservations) the award for teacher of the year. Of course, the pubescent young men present erupted into thunderous applause, dog woofs, and whistling (a sound akin to what happens when someone scores a touchdown at the Superbowl), while the girls and adults – totally embarrassed by this flagrant sexual display – sat silent with looks of disdain and arms folded as she stepped up to the microphone and said,

“I want to thank you all for this honor, which I could not have possibly imagined that I would win; however, I cannot accept it, and would like at this time, to present it to my friend and colleague, Mary White, who is a better teacher, better person, better dresser (greeted by snorts and laughter) and is not having an affair with the principal,”

and, this being said, then handed the plaque to Mrs. White (who had been runner up), turned and walked out of the auditorium, which had fallen into complete and utter silence.

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Clarity

As we adjusted the painting, her shouting directions and me vainly trying to follow them, I had a sudden blinding flash of clarity about our entire relationship.
I think she only went out with me because sometimes from the side I look a little like Steve Martin and she really loves all his movies.

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Oh the Irony

In therapy, my husband shared that he’s been having the same dream every night for a year, of a beautiful stranger who tells him she loves him, and bakes delicious cupcakes.

I met the real her at the local bakery today and we’re going away together this weekend; he’s going to be so pissed.

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