*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1223891-The-Barbie
Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Comedy · #1223891
We've all had those psycho relationships...haven't we?
Alex Trebek: "Dave, its still your turn..."

Dave:"I'll take Psycho Girlfriends for $100 Alex.."

Alex Trebek: "The answer is, Psycho girlfriend of Dave's who turned suicidal after a date.."

Well everyone has had a girlfriend or boyfriend with a few problems, right? Well just about all my girlfriends had a few issues. I only got the problem chicks. They gravitated to me.

Recently I heard on the radio that Huey Lewis and the News were playing nearby with Chicago (again) and I know one person who would just have to be there to make the night complete.

1982...

I met this girl named Barbara through another friend after a series of bizarre and failed relationships. Barbara was a typical girlfriend of those days for me, queen sized and obsessed...something I thought was funny for awhile.

For the record, Barbie, who was two years younger than me, was perhaps one of the nicest girls I ever went out with. Maybe a little too nice. She might have been the only girl I could be absolutely awful to. I'd be out on a date with some girl and call her up to talk to the girl, terrible childish stuff like that.

Eventually when I saw I couldn't really rattle her for some reason, I just went out with her and was a little nicer to her.

Our dates were pretty stupid. We'd just hang out at her house for the most part. Mostly our nights were these "babysitting" adventures where her "client" was her 237 year old semi-functional grandmother who lived with them.

The house was nice, but when you walked passed the room that the grandma was locked in, it had that nursing home kind of aura. The whole night the lady would make these loud grunting and groaning noises and yelling, "BARBARA...BARBARA!"

"Does that lady need medical attention?" I'd ask.

As was the case with most of my girlfriends of the time, almost all of them seemed to have a precocious younger sister.

Enter Barbie's middle school age sister Dawn, who would usually be on hand for our "dates", semi-dressed and making her presence known one way or another.

As her parents would leave for their night on the town, they'd be laying out the ground rules, Dawn would chime in, "Don't worry Dad, its not like they DO anything!"

No lie there...we mostly would sit there and do benign kind of early 80's things like watch "Solid Gold" and listen to her ever expanding collections of 45 RPM records. (If you are under 21 this means music!) Her never ending Chicago ballads and Huey Lewis radio staples earned her the nickname, "Huey" which I guess wasn't flattering.

Then Dawn would weasel her way into the room and mess with Barbie by picking a fight or jumping into my lap and saying to Barbie, "Bet you wish you could do this!"

Barbie would drag Dawn out of the room and they'd have some kind of fight. Dawn then yelled at her, "You've got a cool boyfriend and you don't even know what to do with him."

Duly insulted by her baby sister, Barbie was somber the rest of the night.

The next week however, after a week of lamenting I presume, I got to her house and there was a different aura. It was eerily quiet and dark. The parents were already gone and she managed to get Dawn to go to a friend's house. Even the Grandmother's room was quiet.

"Did your aunt die?" I asked.

"My grandmother? No, I bombed her early." Barbie told me. However her medication must make her go to the bathroom more as the smell of urine was now at tear gas proportion. I'm sitting in her room with the stack of 45's playing on the record player and Barbie goes into the bathroom.

What happens next is like a gothic romance novel...

A few minutes later she comes out wearing some kind of lingerie, while some Air Supply song plays. As if this moment wasn't priceless enough her Grandmother woke up, 'BARBARA...BARBARA...*GRUNT...GRUNT...GRIND...GRUNT* BARBARA...I NEED TO BE CHANGED..."

The house now completely stunk as the old lady must have taken a dump. Up to that point, I had no medical care experience and the smell of someone going to the bathroom was gagging me out!

"I decided tonight's the night." Barbie told me.

"For what?" I replied with a question.

*"BARBARA....I NEED YOU BARBARA..."*

"You know..." she replied.

"Oh." I replied..I had to think quickly, not wanting to tell her I was getting sick, "Uh, I'm saving myself for when I get married."

*"BARBARA...ARE YOU THERE? HELLO!"*

"Uh, you ARE?"

"Umm...yeah."

*"BARBARA...PLEASE HELP ME.."*

"Why don't you make sure that lady is ok!"

When she went to help the old lady out, I went in the living room watched TV and tried to get my insides together. When Barbie came back out, she had nothing on and then suddenly the old lady starts throwing up, which I felt like doing too.

*"BARBARA...*WRETCH...* I NEED HELP BARBARA!"

I needed air...

I told her I had to get up early and I bolted for the door...

The next morning..7 am...

Call from Barbie's mother...

"Uh Dave, we're at the hospital, Barbara, well, we've had kind of a 'misunderstanding'."

"Oh, did you guys kick the crap out of her?" I replied with a question.

"No, she tried to cut herself."

"You mean, she tried to committ suicide?"

"I think so Dave."

"Why?"

"She's afraid you don't like her anymore. Did you two try to have sex?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh? Why not?" the mother asked

How do I tell this lady that I couldn't stand the smell of her mother or like her daughter that much?

"I'm...uhh...saving myself for my wedding day."

"Sure you are." she replied. I could hear Dawn in the background yelling, "HE DOESN'T WANT HER!"

"This is bizarre." I said to the mother.

"How so?" she answered interoggatively

"Well chicks usually try to kill themselves to get OUT of dating me!"

She spent the day in the hospital and they took her home the next day.

They put her on suicide watch for a few days and although she was a good person, it was kind of mutually agreed that maybe I not go out with her. She apparently had more issues than we thought.

Later that night, I met the person who would one day become my ex-wife.

She was holding this 9 month old baby....who would become my daughter.

1994...or thereabouts...

Walking in a department store, I can see a familiar face stocking shelves. I figured...hey...you know...a long time has passed...everyone is grown up now...lets just go over and say "Hi" and laugh at the past.

"Hey Barbara, how are ya?"

Uh, well she wasn't too thrilled to see me I guess and came flying at me..."HEY MY ASS!" she yelled pointing, "YOU RUINED MY LIFE, YOU SOB!"

Well that was it..."I RUINED YOUR LIFE? WHEN YOU TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF, YOU GOT LOVE AND SYMPATHY AND I GOT MY EX-WIFE!"

I see the therapy sessions had gone well....

Fun@Dave's World
http://www.funatdavesworld.com













© Copyright 2007 CuzzinDave (cuzzindave at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1223891-The-Barbie