On the Flip Side

Romantic relationships can be euphorically rewarding and intensely meaningful. However, when you exchange your lotioned tantric hands for brass knuckles and ski masks, or arrows of Cupid for ex-seeking missile launchers, then you need to watch out.

Whomever said, "All is fair in love and war" must have been one vindictive little gremlin. After all, why would you equate the suffering and struggle of millions with the most profound and exhilarating feelings you generate without using some form of a Schedule 1 substance?

Leaving the gym, B-Boo and I were searching high and low for Gerbils, B-Boo's "in car". Seeing as how we were at the gay gym, everyone had to have some sort of "in something" to demonstrate their trust fund status, sugar daddy gifts, over-extended credit limits, or bedroom postures. Gerbils fell into the blissful quagmire of juvenile credit.

B-Boo repeatedly presses her key less entry button to figure which of the ten identical Scions' was hers. A double meep, suggesting a Road Runner cartoon, beacons us and we head toward the silver box on wheels.

"Hey, that's a nice car," a wispy brown haired man enthusiastically remarks. Looking over her shoulder to a car identical to Gerbils, she responds, "Thank you." She takes a closer look at his car and asks, "Hey, what happened to your car?"

"Huh? Oh, that? That was my ex." We examine the driver side of his car. Where there was once a shiny silver layer of enamel, there was now a splattered canvas of dried runny brown paint. I exclaim, "Holy crap, batman!"

Responding, "Yeah, it's kind of the same color, isn't it?" Licking his chops and seductively eyeing Gerbils, the man goes on, "I'll trade you cars?" B-Boo pets Gerbils, and remarks, "Yea, but my car has this big ol' dent in the hood and in the bumper." To which the long-haired man responds, "Yea, but I'd rather have that bump than this paint. Freaking ex's..."

My hand goes up and points toward his caramelized vehicle, "See?! That's why I don't date!" My hand thoughtfully goes to my chin, "Tho... with Tasty Cake's paint job, I bet it would be an improvement..."

I laugh serendipitously as I open the door and climb into the front seat. In the car, B-Boo playfully snaps, "Well, BP, you probably wouldn't be down w/ someone trashy enough to throw paint your car."

"Yeah, you're probably right, B-Boo."

While we drive to the juice bar to have a Jambafied day, I'm thinking what New Girl would have done in this situation. Standing in front of the shop, there, sweet as rain, are two young kids lovingly displaying their affections. Quite a different site than the mock blood-splattered auto we had just seen. Stepping up on the curb, and stirring my cauldron, I look at them and say, "Oh, sure, it's all fun and games now... but wait until one of you is going bananas throwing outdoor paint on the other's car."

Shocked, B-Boo exclaims, "BP!!! Oh my god! (putting her hand over her heart) I can't believe you just said that... but it's so true!" Looking at the couple, she continues, "You better watch out girl, one of you is going to catch the other on the flip side."