The Humor Mill August 2017 | Page 50

Brown Bettie Knows Best ~ I may not be funny, but I sure know what is. I sat at the edge of the Vltava river in Prague where I live, sort of mourning a non-relationship relationship that ended. The full moon hung in the distance as a patch of lightening in the far off velvety sky flickered and reminded us of things that exist in far off places. Like missed family and friends and bills that need to be paid and laundry to be done and stupid elections. I’d gone to the spot where he and I had hung out and to the bar that served the beer he liked. Yes, I secretly hoped that maybe he would be there, too. You know, just there. Waiting for me. But what I found was a plastic cup turned over and crushed onto the tap signaling that the beer was…out. Done. I took that as a sign. Done. Out. Over. I switched gears and ordered a Pale Ale in my limited Czech and sat myself down at the river. I sat alone between other couples enjoying one another and friends sharing wine. I took my shoes off and made friends with the ducks swimming quietly in the moonlit water. I resisted the urge to call a friend to join me or play on Facebook to ward off the healing feeling of feeling alone. The non-relationship relationship ended with a text, in Czech (thank you Google), that said he had too many worries and troubles and didn’t want to burden me with them. Ok. Fine. I can get down with that. Whatever. As I sat at the river, with my legs crossed over one another in what I like to call a sultry-ish pretzel, I pulled my shoulders back and simply let the balmy night smooth my forehead with a gentle hand and tell me it was gonna be okay. Later, at home, via Facebook messenger, I told my girlfriend that it was over and I sort of said, “What does it matter?” …I don’t like to feel too many feelings or share this sort of thing with people live. She knows this. That’s why I told her. She encouraged me to go ahead and be bummed. Writing is my form of being bummed. What does it matter? I am on a journey. This is one step closer to love, I told her. It will happen. I’m moving on. Blah-blah. Luckily, I didn’t have to dig too deep this time to remind myself of the amazing woman I am. I do deserve someone my age that will not ghost on me and not be afraid to share their “worries and troubles” with me and not use them as an excuse to not get closer. And ultimately, what does it matter? It doesn’t. This blip is so minimal in the scope of so many other things. The lightening in the distance reminds us of this. The other night, I had a lovely time at a friend’s birthday party and enjoyed many, many cocktails. I looked nice. I felt confident. I had on lipstick and jeans that fit me. And heels! I was walking across “my” bridge, over the Vltava river, towards home. Alone. It was late. Very late. I’d done this many times before. Suddenly, instinctively, I felt something. I turned just in time to see and feel some man trying to do something to me. I say “something” because I don’t know what he wanted or why he was touching me. What he was doing. I think he went for my purse. I don’t know. What I do know is he put his hand around my mouth and was holding onto me. I screamed. I fought. I pushed him. I fell or he pushed