My Wife Found a Job

(The Dragon Lady now has a job.)

Yesterday, I walked to church with Rice-Boy Larry. The heat was nearly unbearable. In fact, we could literally see steam rising from the sidewalk as we marched toward our destination. I shit you not. But we struck up a conversation along the way to relieve us from our distress.

He said, "Mom has a job."

"You're kidding me?"

He shook his head. "Nope. She was hired by a factory that produces semi-conductors. She says that her salary is now the same as yours."

"Well, good for her. I hope that she finds happiness."

Of course, this was all bullshit. Deep inside, I was actually pretty fucking angry. I've been begging her to seek employment for the last four years. Yet when she was living with me, the only thing she did all day was vacuum the floor over and over again while wearing her pajamas. But after moving in with her sister, she suddenly manages to get herself a well-paying gig. Go figure, right? As you can imagine, the news was a real kick to the balls. I guess you could call it her final fuck you.

My boy must have noticed the expression of disdain upon my face.

He said, "What's the matter?"

I frowned at him. "Do you realize how much money her mental illness has cost us as a family?"

"No."

"Tons. We could have purchased several brand-new cars with all that green she threw to the wind. Then we wouldn't have to hoof it from here to there."

Larry shrugged nonchalantly. "Money isn't important."

"Maybe not to you, but it's important to me. In today's society, it's hard to keep the ship afloat with only a single paycheck. We ought to be living on easy street by now, but instead we're a couple of broke dead dicks."

"There's no point in getting hot under the collar. What's done is done."

"Ain't that the fucking truth?" 

By the time we got to the church, we were both covered in so much sweat that we had to go to the restroom to mop ourselves off with paper towels. But the feel of the air conditioning on my flesh filled me with with a huge amount of joy. Nothing will lift your spirits as much as walking into a climate-controlled building. It was heaven. 

The sermon was OK. We are still reading the Book of Isaiah. In these particular chapters, the prophet tells us that God is in charge of everything. He's responsible for our success and failure. He brings both prosperity and calamity upon the people. And he's even the one who causes natural disasters which rip the hearts out of nations as the survivors look on helplessly and weep. Good stuff.

After the service, we walked home together. Once again, the sun beat down upon our heads like a hammer striking an anvil.

Larry said, "Dad, let's take a taxi."

I shook my head. "No, we really need the exercise."

"But this is torture."

"Maybe so. Yet it will get you prepared for your military service."

"I'm not going into the Korean army."

"How do you know?"

"You've told me a million times that they don't want white people."

"Yeah, but what the hell do I know? Besides, you're only half white."

When we finally got back to our apartment, I cooked rice and curry for dinner. The meal was actually pretty good. Then I did a load of laundry as I watched the fight between Jake Paul and Nate Diaz. Paul beat the former UFC champ pretty handily, but it was still an entertaining match.

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