Chapter 2-The Drink That Made Him Miserable

Tony was always toying with the idea of selling his wedding ring. He could burry it in a pot and then dig it up and stain it, just to make it seem old, say it was from 1850, and then go on the Antiques Roadshow to see how much it was worth. Of course that would be very time consuming, and would take a lot of commitment, and he just didn't have the time or energy to really commit himself to anything yet, except Jen if she asked. These days, his days were filled to the top with beer and sports. But not all sports. No longer baseball, for it reminded him too much of his ex-wife. Tony also toyed around with the idea of being married to Jen, for financial purposes. Not that he was the breadmaker in his household, but it might lighten things up for Jen. He always shook his head when he thought of that, because it was rare that he thought of her...

"How many is that?" Jen demanded as she threw her bag to the floor.

"Huh?" Tony grunted.

"How many have you had?"

He counted the empty beer bottles scattered around the room. "Like, nine or ten." He concluded.

"Great." Jen muttered. "Are there any more left?"

"You work at a bar and you can't steal a free beer?"

Jen shook her head. "If we still wanna live under this roof, I'm going to have to play by the rules. Unless you'd like to get a job?"

Tony shook his head and said, 'bitch' to no one in particular.

"I saw your ex-wife today."

"What the fuck?"

"I saw Michelle Dessler."

"Bitch," he said again. "She left me you know. She used me…"

"I know."

"Did you tell her about us?"

"Kind of. I didn't tell her we were living together…I just told her we were, like, on-again off-again.

"How did she react?" Tony asked, sounding a little more eager than he wanted to.

"She ran out of the bar…without her beer."

Tony slouched in his seat and turned off the TV.

"What do you want to do tonight?" He asked out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Go? We never go anywhere."

"Well, it's Friday. Maybe we should go out for dinner or something."

Tony knew Jen would decline. She wasn't a thing like Michelle. She was bitchy and short tempered with a hint of slutiness just squeezed in there. They didn't "make love", they "did each other". Big difference. With Michelle, he would take her out for a nice dinner, and that would result in some kisses, and the kisses into items of clothing being taken off, and that–well, would result in "making love". Jen just assumed that Tony had had a few, and then would say she needed to "get laid" before she went to work.

"How do you expect to pay for this dinner you'll be taking me out on? Jesus Murphy, Tony! You're so stupid sometimes!"

Jen stormed off into the bedroom (not hers, or his, or theirs, just 'the bedroom'), and Tony shrugged.

He got up and walked over to the fridge, where he stared at it for a long time. He opened its door, pulled out a beer and looked at it. This beverage in his hands was the beverage that tore him and Michelle apart. The beverage that caused everything to go downhill. That beverage was the reason why he was standing there, thinking about the beverage that made him miserable.