Tag Archives: shallow

Depthless

A night out with the girls, after a tumultuous week at the office; heads turning as they were led to their table; the waiter taking a quick inventory of Blackberry’s, designer bags and bling; calculating his tip even before introducing himself. Once seated and situated, they immediately began bitching about co-workers and letting off steam, then somewhere between appetizers and the second round of margaritas things took an awkward turn.

Shana was the drama queen of the group; pampered, posh and completely plastic. There wasn’t a single person in the office that wasn’t aware of the fact that she didn’t have to work, she chose to; for walking around money. Whenever there was reason for an occasion, she made it a point to play hostess, then downplayed the maid and gourmet chef who not only worked the soiree, but were full time employees.

They had three children, with a live-in nanny who raised them rather than tended them. Ponte Vedra Beach is where they resided; in a sprawling 8,000 square foot oceanfront mansion with their own private stretch of beach; a showplace to be certain, just as Shana was a show piece to her husband.

Sure, she thrived on the attention her looks afforded her, but in truth she loathed the amount of time she was made to spend on her appearance. Yes, “made to.”

Her husband was the most sought after plastic surgeon in northeast Florida and had invested tens of thousands of dollars of his time and talent, on breast implants, tummy tuck and lipo after their last child was born and they were certain they wanted no more.

He hired a personal trainer, which came five mornings a week, to make certain she worked out, because quite frankly, he didn’t trust her to do it on her own; and the chef was to prepare all her meals and keep track of what she ate on a daily basis, so that at the end of the week he could assess her caloric intake and adjust her workout accordingly.

He put her on a routine Botox schedule, which just so happened to coincide with her Mercedes maintenance. Three thousand mile oil change, tire rotation and Botox injections, all in the same day, which she swore was just a coincidence.

As she drained the last of her third margarita, she confessed that he’d recently hinted that for her 43rd birthday he might be giving her a facelift, then burst into tears; professing how miserable she was, and that at the end of the day, all the money, clothes, jewelry, memberships and trips abroad did nothing to ease her loneliness.

Then in the very next breath she turned to me and asked if I knew how many calories were in a margarita. I told her I didn’t know and what difference did it make. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Are you kidding me? It makes ALL the difference! I don’t have the luxury you do, of having a husband who loves me unconditionally. Richard is surrounded by young, beautiful women every single day and the last thing in the world I want, is to be forty-three and single, with three kids and forced to take care of myself!”

“CHECK PLEASE…”

© jillterry


Shallow Sal

Just as it began
To materialize
For the first time in
His life

Wrapping his head
His heart around it
Embracing with wild
Abandon

Shifting perception
To a clearer view
Uninhibited
Filled with wonder

Unveiling calm
In the storm of
His life
To his true self
Introductions made

Freedom offered
At too high a cost
He weighed the options
Too much to be lost

He fabricated a story
That fit the bill
Sold his soul
For that house on
The hill

Building his arsenal
Of material possessions
At the end of day
Believing he’s
Made it

© jillterry


Lost in the façade

I told him once he was a praise whore, and thought he was going to cry. The look of hurt shown in his eyes nearly broke my heart.

But still, what I said was truth.

I tried to reach that part of him; beyond the shallows, into the depths, and for a moment successfully glimpsed. But it didn’t last long; nothing discussed apparently took. For he’s still just as shallow, if not more so; worrying what the rest of the world thinks; determining his human worth by the number of possessions he can acquire, the number of heads he can turn, and how many times he stands at center of attention.

Trying so very hard to impress; bragging as a child might, as if to say, “Look what I have and you don’t,” when of all the people in the whole of the world, he knows I’m the queen of modest living and that material possessions of any kind, simply do not impress.

I wouldn’t be on the receiving end of his karma for all the money in the world! And what strikes me as odd, is that after all this time and distance, why he goes out of his way, to make certain that I see?

He should ask himself that at night, when he lays his head on his designer pillow, next to his lunatic wife, convincing himself that he’s finally made it, and happiness he has found.

Ⓒjillterry


%d bloggers like this: