The Return of Grace

It's been a while since I've spoken to Graceless Grace.

Guess the blame lies mainly on my shoulders - since I find it nearly impossible to converse with a contrary harpy who disagrees with everything I say. No doubt Grace would claim the sky was a shade of cerulean if I dared say it was blue. So you can imagine I'd balk whenever she calls.

Yet I simply can't leave the exasperating gal in a lurch especially when she needs me. You can't just turn your back on someone you've known since kindergarten! No matter how aggravating she may be.


There goes the phone again. Should I pick it up?
So when I received this message yesterday...

Grace : I'm feeling a little down. Can we talk?

Fool that I was, I fell for the instant message hook, line and sinker. Should have known it was a trap but what can I say? Not only does she know how to reel 'em in, I've always been a sucker for damsels in distress.

Even more for dudes in distress but that's something else entirely.

I blame it on my alma mater of course - a school renowned for inculcating outdated Arthurian values such as chivalry into naive lil schoolboys - which of course makes us all absolute putty when it comes to weeping women.

So oh yes, I made the dreaded call to Grace. Only to have what seemed like an entire band of maddening furies descend with their claws and fangs out to dissect every flaw in my personality. In between callously pointing out all my innumerable failings, our painfully exacting Grace proceeded to tear apart several reputations, rant about her insufferable workmates and generally rage about the infidelity of heterosexual males.

A group she obviously still considers me a part of since she couldn't stop lumping me in.

Grace : You bloody men are absolutely worthless. Less than worthless if there's even a word.
Paul : I'm sure you could coin a new word.
Grace : I feel I can only talk to you.
Paul : And I wonder why.

And this went on for nearly half an hour. As usual I tried to offer several ingenuous solutions to her endless problems only to have her wail that no one understands her unique plight.

There are times when I actually thank God I'm gay.

In the end I had to call upon a dying man to support me - whereupon I disconnected since saving lives have to come first. Of course I never told her I was the one dying after her neverending tales of woe.