Return of the psycho ex!

or; close encounters of the creepy kind

Wow! It's been forever. Long story, but here I am, with a funny story to tell . . .

For those of you who haven't read the exploits of my crazy psycho ex girlfriend, you'd probably better read this story first.

So on Friday afternoon, I was working at the nursery, of course, and I was walking back to the annual flowers section and I hear from behind me, “Braeden Jones!”
I thought to myself, That voice sounds eerily whiny and familiar . . .
I spun on my heels, and was terrified to see my crazy psycho ex girlfriend!!!!!!
She had a big smile on her face and said, “It's so good to see you!”
I was flabbergasted. My heart sped up – thump-thump, thump-thump, thum-thum, thu-thu, th-th, t-t – the darn thing stopped flat for a few seconds, and then promptly began to beat again after a few moments of flatline – t-t, th-th, thu-thu, thum-thum, thump-thump, thump-thump.
I didn't say a word. She explained, “I've driven by here a lot, and I've always wondered if this is the garden center you worked at.”
Ugh. I still couldn't say a word, and the awkwardness was so thick you could cut it with a blunt New England cod.
The silence was so awkward. Words are not adequate to describe how weird the whole situation was. “You look good,” she said. “You're a lot hairier since the last time I saw you.” (She knew me back when I had my hair cut almost military cut with no facial hair whatsoever – now I'm shaggy, with my hair over my ears a little and big chops and a goatee.)
Finally, she said, “Do you know where the impatiens are?” Finally . . . autopilot. I simply explained where the flowers were and made my quick retreat to the back.
I rushed to the back dock, and hollered for Lisa, the girl I'm sorta dating now. (This would be the one from the missed kiss story.) I blurt out, “Oh hon, you'll never believe who just walked in here!”
She looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes and said in her most fun sarcastic tone, “Hmm . . . I'll guess it was Mohatma Gandhi.”
All the awkwardness and weirdness melted away. (Thank goodness for that wonderful girl.) I replied, “Wrongo-congo, dear. Remember my crazy psycho ex?”
Her eyes got as wide as dinner plates. “She's HERE?” she called in excitement.
“Yup,” I contested.
She got that wry smile on her face again, and said, “Okay, let's go up there, I wanna see,” and grabbed my hand.
We walked up there, making small talk, and I whispered in her ear, “Okay, she's the one in the pink shirt and brown pants.”
We walked past, still pretending to be lost in our small talk. I saw the psycho one look over out of the corner of my eye, and I noticed a hint of jealousy over the racks of impatiens.
Lisa and I got past the annual greenhouse and she turned to me. “Wow, she's tall.”
I was a little surprised. “That's all you have to say?” Granted, she was tall, but that's not what I expected Lis to say.
She laughed a little. “What do you want me to say? She's married, isn't she? I'm not worried about anything.” Then she gave me a wink.
Suddenly, there was the ex, with a woman I've seen in the store before. The ex introduced me to her as her mother-in-law!
I thought to myself, uh oh, Chonino, this is an ugly situation . . .
Lisa just grabbed my hand tighter and said, “Pleasure to meet you. And how do y'all know my Braeden?”
Nikki, flushing, answered, “We knew each other a few years back.”
I was still sitting there, basking in the awkward glow. This was more fun than it should have been.
Lisa replied, “Oh, that's nice. Come on, hon, we've got work to do!” as she led me back into the flower racks.
As soon as we were out of earshot, we both burst out in the giggles. What could have been a superbly awful and awkward situation was instead a good laugh.
My, how things can change.

But I still hope she doesn't come in again.

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