The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Feb 20, 2011

Marriage Is Like Eggs

In Robert Arellano's Don Dimaio of La Plata, various plug-uglies and macho types abound. With the typical swagger of a lowlife politico, the Mayor insists that it's better to have casual flings than get married. And, with vim and brio, he compares marriage to eating eggs:
"...I've got this one girl Dolly who's got a tail like a Chevy. She lets me ride it whenever I want, and when I'm done she doesn't need any of that goddamn attention. No 'take me out' or 'talk to me' or anything. It's just fuck and sleep." 
"Sounds pretty good. Maybe you should make her your full-time old lady." 
"No way, Hank. Fucking the same whore every night gets so fucking monotonous. Do you have any idea how much free pussy I get as mayor? Marriage, on the other hand..." 
"Oh, no." Cantare has heard this rap. 
"It's like the chefs put a banquet with food from every part of the world in front of you, but day after day you can only eat the same thing." 
"Eggs," Cantare says. 
"Eggs. Other guys get Italian, Chinese, Spanish, French, Caribbean. You smell how good it all is. You're licking your lips. You want to try a little of everything yourself, but you're always forced to pick the same dish. Eggs. You try them prepared different styes for a while and sauce it up a little every now and then - Benedict one day, ranchero the next - but after a time even that goes dry and all that's left is scrambled and it's not even fresh: powdered eggs." 
"I know, boss, I know." 
"It's not over yet. One day you show up for the smorgasbord and where your platter of eggs used to be there's something floating in a glass jar full of murky brine like some kind of abortion. You're like, 'Where's my eggs?' And the waiter says, 'In there.' Now it's pickled eggs. For the rest of your goddamned life. You're hungry as hell and they've still got all that good stuff laid out to either side. Tortellini, roast duck, beef with broccoli." 
"I hear you, boss." 
"You sit and watch while all around you other guys are dipping their fingers straight in the gravy or diving right into dessert - chocolate-chip blondies a la mode! oh! - but all you get is eggs. Pickled eggs. That's what it's like having a wife."


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