It was a beautiful July afternoon at lunch. The humidity was low with the temps hovering in the lower eighties. I was so glad to be at one of my old haunts and hang-outs, Fat Albert's. It felt like old times and Rosa had accompanied me on this almost forgotten routine. She wanted to play the Georgia lottery as she often does.
"You could just give me the money," I said, coyly, of her buying lottery tickets. "It would be the same thing."
"You either have gambling blood or you don't," was Rosa's reply. "And no, you can't have my money. I want the thrill of the chase for all those winnings."
I smiled as I ate my red-hot pickled sausage and watched as Rosa scratched off the little metallic circles revealing money amounts. She didn't win a dime as I had predicted.
I heard some news about my ex-girlfriend, Carolyn, from her friend, the manager, today. She was transferred from a Wal-Mart store to a local Wal-Mart distribution center. She had gotten a promotion and I was pleased for her. Carolyn's friend then told me that she still isn't dating anyone and I was pleased that she was still single. I felt terrible for feeling that way and was beating myself up over it on the drive home. "Why would I take pleasure in someone else's misfortune?" I thought. I told Rosa about it and she said she has done the same thing before as well.
"I occasionally hear about my old boyfriend and pimp," she said. "And I have to keep myself from being pleased that he is still a no-good thief and crack-head. It makes me feel better to feel that way about that son of a bitch."
Breaking up can be a strange thing, indeed. I should just be glad Carolyn was okay and doing well. I did so love her once. Rosa told me not to be so hard on myself as everyone does that. It seems so childish and immature though - like something out of high school. I will just chalk up my churlish response as a blip on the radar of emotion.