Dancing Hippos

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Two different views on commitment.
1.4k words
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Sometimes when I read stories about willing cuckolds, I get a mental picture of the husband and wife. It's not a good picture and I'm not feeling kind when I have it. I decided to let that mental image out and use it in this little story about the dancing hippos.

Thankfully, there is no sex in this story.

>>> >>> >>>

"Can I get you another, Jim?"

I stirred from my thoughts, looked up at Janice, smiled, and shook my head. "I'll just finish this and be gone. Thanks."

As she walked away, I thought about her two kids and the asshole husband who abandoned them three years ago. She's raising those kids on tips and a waitress' salary, and I reminded myself to give her a big tip. She's good people and deserves better.

All I needed was a few quiet minutes to myself so I could finish my beer and process the past hour. I thought to myself, "There is so much pain in the world and so much of it that's unnecessary. I will never understand people."

It was while I pondered this great mystery of life that he approached me. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt, and he wore a cowboy hat that had never touched the dirt.

"Hi! Mind if I join you?" He sat in the booth opposite me without waiting for a response.

I sized him up between his first and second sentence. He was short and skinny, and he had a nervous way about him like he was unsure of himself or the outcome of his efforts.

Without looking at me, he says, "What brings you in tonight?"

Small talk? Okay, I can play. "I met a few friends here. They left and I'm finishing my beer before I leave, too."

He was nodding, but he was looking around the room and I got the impression that he wasn't really listening.

"So, not a lot of women in here tonight. Are you waiting for someone?"

Am I waiting... Wasn't he listening? "No, I'm just finishing my beer before I leave."

"Maybe you shouldn't give up so fast."

This guy was starting to get on my nerves. I glanced at his hand and saw a wedding band. He had obviously overlooked mine. I thought to myself, "Please tell me he's not one of those clowns who thinks he's a player."

"Listen, I'm meeting someone here, but you look like a nice guy. If you want, you can have her, or we can share."

A shiver shot up my spine and I stared at him in disbelief. "Thanks, but I was just about to leave."

He ignored me. "Here she comes now!" He waved her over and for a moment my stomach turned. She was obese with large, sweaty pores. Her hair was tied in a bun that stood on the top of her head, but it did a nice job of balancing the waddle below her jaw. She was dressed like an aerobics instructor or a ballerina with thin, tight latex and acres of frilly lace. I suppose she thought the outfit made her look feminine, but she reminded me of one of those dancing hippos in a Disney animated movie.

"Amazing, isn't she?"

For a moment I'd forgotten my recently acquired friend. I looked over and he was beaming in admiration. "Yeah, I suppose that's one word for it." I was trying to be polite, but I was down to my last ounce of kindness and counting the steps to the door.

She sat down next to the littlest cowboy and beamed. At least, I think she was beaming. I was so blinded by those acres of pasty white flesh that I couldn't see clearly.

"I'm sorry. I was just telling your... friend that I was getting ready to leave."

"Oh don't go, sugar! The night is young, and you might get lucky."

About then I was thinking that a heart attack might qualify is lucky. "Really, I do need to be going home. My wife is holding dinner for me." It occurred to me that I might be risking my life to mention food in front of her and almost took back my excuse.

"You sure you wouldn't like to stay with my hus... I mean my friend and I?"

That was when the penny finally dropped. He was the husband. For just a brief moment in time I felt sorry for him, but then I realized that this poor, weak excuse for a man had made his choice for whatever reason.

I excused myself and walked across the room to intercept Janice and give her the money I owed. Perhaps I misjudged the two, but somehow leaving it on the table with them seemed like a bad idea. Janice gave me an odd smile and shot a look at my two former companions. I just shook my head and headed for the door with the sound of a wife berating her husband behind me.

As I crossed the parking lot, I wondered about the relationship between a wife and her procurer. What kind of broken soul hunts partners for his wife, and what kind of wife takes satisfaction from humiliating her husband? After all I'd heard that night, those two settled in my mind as nothing more than a sad joke.

Sitting in my car as I was preparing to leave, I rested my head on my seat back and replayed the events of the evening. When I walked into the bar an hour before and saw three friends gathered at a booth across the room, I naturally headed in their direction. Marty saw me and gave me a slight shake of his head that stopped me in my tracks. There was no mistaking the look, but he gave me a little "come here" wave with his fingers and I proceeded with caution. With room on the bench opposite Marty, I settled into the booth next to Glen without speaking.

Glen gave me a nod and returned to watching our friend Bill who was sitting opposite him silently staring at his beer. I don't know how long I sat there, but when Janice arrived to take my order, I was momentarily startled. I requested my beer and the discourse seemed to shake Bill from his thoughts.

"I swear I never saw it coming."

I could tell it wasn't the time for me to ask what, so I just continued to listen.

"A neighbor told me he was coming to the house while I was at work."

Oh shit! Now I knew what this was about.

"I guess he thought he was clever. He was parking up and down the street thinking no one would catch on, but the neighbors talk, and they put two and two together. One of them filled me in."

"How..." I bit my lip. That was when I remembered that Sherry left her job when the second child was born so she could be a stay-at-home mom.

"The kids are young and take a nap every afternoon."

That was the answer to my unasked question.

"I decided to see for myself, so I went home today and caught them."

Shit! No man should ever be asked to see that.

"They were in the same bed where I sleep every night, the same bed where our children were conceived."

I wanted to ask what he did when he found them, but I knew it was no time for me to interrupt my friend.

"I've heard of men who go crazy at times like that. They grab whatever is at hand and start swinging. They beat and kick the guy, smack the wife, and throw them both out into the street as naked as they found them. I just collapsed against the wall."

My friend was suffering, and he was berating himself for unseen failings. It occurred to me that this is what betrayal does to the human soul - it turns a man against himself as he searches for the inadequacies that drove his spouse into the arms of another man.

The next hour was filled with pain. I was in pain watching my friend who was in pain and knowing there was nothing I could do to help him heal. Eventually, Bill went home with Glen. Soon Marty headed out leaving me to finish that same first beer that I had ordered long before. It was as I contemplated the news of my friend's destruction and slowly set about finishing my beer that I was joined by the procuring cowboy and the dancing hippo. What a night! I put my car in gear and with a deep breath I slowly headed home.

>>> >>> >>>

That's it. Not much to it really, just two sides of a coin and two husbands with very different ideas about marriage.

If I offended anyone who struggles to lose weight, I sincerely apologize.

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AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

Short little vignette of a story which leaves lots of thoughts about the situation. Which is not a bad thing at all. My only criticism is of the way the playing wife was described. Sorry but it was offensive and the apology at the end only highlights that the author knew this. Which is very disappointing to say the least. Consequently it turned an excellent short story worth a 4 or a 5 into an average story. By all means described someone but do it using the "friends and family test" if you have an overweight friend and heard them being described by a stranger what would you want to hear? So it's 3 stars from me for that reason only. BardnotBard

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

Good short stories should be exactly like

this one.

shr

26thNC26thNC7 months ago

Again, that one was like a quick slap to the face.

WisquejacWisquejac7 months ago

Both the title and the line “ the littlest cowboy” cracked me up. Thank you.

Calico75Calico758 months ago

Well done! I love little vingnettes like this for a change. Thought-provoking.

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