Dear Peggy 1/12

 

'Dear Peggy'

By: Tyro Absendarian

 

 

 

'Dear Peggy;

 

I have been living with my boyfriend for almost two years now. He says that he loves me but he is always out with his buddies. He will go out drinking or to hockey and football games with them and drops any plans we might have to spend time together. It's like I am just here to cook and do his laundry and sleep with him. I thought I wanted to marry him but now I am having second thoughts. What can I do?

 

Signed: Judy'

 

 

'Dear Judy.

 

You have to ask yourself if the time you do spend together is worth it. When he is with you, is he really the man you want to spend your life with? Will he be there if and when you have children with him?

Then you also have to ask yourself how much you can change of yourself. You cannot change him, only HE can change himself. Will you be happy if you change yourself to make it work? What you need to do is to sit him down and have a discussion about what the problems are and see if he is willing to commit to changing. Don't forget to make some changes and compromises so that he is not the only one giving in. Then set yourself a goal of three to six months. If there has not been the changes he promised, then maybe it's time to look at moving on.

 

Signed Peggy'

 

 

 

 

'Dear Peggy

 

I have been happily married to a sweet woman for 5 years now. We have 2 children and we still love each other very much but there has been no sex for months. I work full time and she works part time. She just never seems to have any energy or interest anymore. She's so awesome and so hot that I can't stand it when we just don't do stuff together like we used to.

 

Please help; John'

 

'I hate starting an answer with 'Dear John'

 

She is probably worn out with the stress of taking care of the kids and the house as well as working. A young mother also often has a hard time relaxing with a stranger babysitting her children. See if either your or her parents can take care of the kids for a weekend, not just overnight. Get away for a romantic weekend so she can decompress. And don't put any pressure on her either. Things should happen on their own once she can be herself. If things still don't work out, a visit to the doctor might be in order, there might be a simple medical issue that's draining her. It would also be a good idea if you did a bit more around the house, helped with chores help take care of the kids. Do these things without expecting recognition. Trust me, she will notice and it will mean a lot to her. That will make you both happy.

 

Signed Peggy'

 

 

Simon Britewell took another sip of now warm beer from his bottle as he read over his answer. After nodding with satisfaction he emailed the responses to his publisher as well as his regular sports column 'On the Briteside'. He rubbed his tired eyes then stared at the pile of notes he had. He raised his bottle in a toast to the pile "Here's to the great Canadian novel,...that may never be". He finished the beer and put the bottle in with the other empties.

It was close to seven in the evening and Simon was feeling hungry. He didn’t feel particularly keen on what he had in the fridge and decided that he would settle for some pub food. He walked over to the easy chair His jacket was draped over the back of it and his cat 'Oscar' was draped over it. Simon picked him up and stroked it's fur. "Hey old man. I need my jacket please." Oscar immediately responded with a loud purr and stretched in his arms, then arched his head back in approval. Simon kissed Oscar on the top of the head then put him back down on seat of the chair. “Don’t wait up buddy” he said over his shoulder to the cat as it casually strolled to the food bowl. Putting on the light jacket Simon left the small apartment, locking it behind him.

Simon walked the few blocks to the local pub. He didn’t have the need for a car since his divorce. Everywhere he needed to go was either a reasonable walk or easy access by public transport. The divorce also made affording the car and the insurance and parking at the limit of his finances.

The neighbourhood Simon lived in was an older area, not terribly upscale but not an area where you had to worry either. Older low rise apartments and walk up apartments over the businesses were typical of the area. ‘Someday a developer will start buying it all to tear down and put expensive condos or a shopping mall in’ Simon mused. ‘That will be a sad day. This neighbourhood has it’s own charm’

The early evening was clear and a little cool. Traffic sounds and usual noise from the rest of the city were relatively light. ‘People are probably arriving home or having supper about now’ Simon thought.

He passed by several store fronts, most shops were closed and few were still cleaning up to close. Simon wondered to himself about the people running and working in the stores. What was their story? Business can’t be all that good. Malls had absorbed the lions share of their customers and online shopping was now taking customers from the malls. There was a lot of history that was being lost when retailers like these closed up for the last time and there were more and more vacant storefronts. Simon thought about the cause and effect. Once several stores close in an area, customers were that much less likely to shop in the area at all so it took the rest of the businesses down too. ‘Hmm, this would make a good article. I should write something about this for the paper’ he thought to himself.

 

Simon walked into the “Safe Harbour pub”, It was a cozy older pub. Not very big but the place had a lot of history and character. The patrons liked that things rarely changed there and that suited the owner Jerry Hall just fine since he was a hard man to pry a nickel out of. With the economy being what it was and business being slow, he rarely had that nickel to spare anymore anyway.

 

Simon was immediately greeted by a few of the regulars. "Simon"! called  Fred. The rest of the usual bar flies also raised their drinks in greeting. "Blue please Sheila. Oh and can I get an order of wings too please" he said to Sheila Vestby, the woman tending bar this evening. Sheila Had been basically running the bar most of the times when he dropped in. In her late 50's Sheila had seen and heard it all. She always had a kind ear and a welcome smile for everyone. Yet none of the patrons knew much about her. Still, they also knew not to mess with her. She was not petite and she could do her own bouncing if anyone got out of hand. There were rumours of just such an event happening but you could never find an actual witness to her tossing anyone out.

An elderly black man gestured at the cribbage board to Simon as he shuffled the deck casually. Simon nodded reluctantly to old 'Nash' as everyone called him. Nobody knew his real name. It didn't matter, Nash was a good guy and a sharp player. Simon sat down and Nash presented the deck to be cut. Simon just tapped the deck with his finger yielding the deal. Nash smiled at him "The usual? Loser buys the round?" Simon nodded, knowing he was going to be buying. Nash never missed a point. He never cheated but he was so skilled and sharp that you could count on one hand how many times Nash lost a game even when he had several bad hands in a row. Simon picked up his cards and looked at them. ‘Shitty cards’ he thought to himself, breaking a weak run to put in his share of the crib. He tossed his two in the crib and cut for the starter. Nash flipped the top card, a jack of hearts. Nash pegged the two points. Then Simon placed a four of clubs face up on the table. Nash placed a four of diamonds from his own hands and pegged another 2 points. "Nash, come on, you gotta at least make me THINK that I have a chance" Simon pleaded jokingly. Nash just grinned.

Some people seemed to just pull luck out of the air and Nash was a master at it. He was not much of a talker. He was the lovable quiet type that seemed to be full of wisdom yet didn’t bother you with it unless asked.

Sheila brought over the opened bottle of beer to Simon. "I think I am going to have to run a tab tonight. He's taking me to the cleaners right out of the gate." Everyone laughed. "Hey Simon, How are you liking the Canucks this season." Without looking up from his cards, He knew it was Martin Fenderman asking him. "The new goalie they got in the draft is very fast, I think he can do wonders, but with Borovski down from that concussion, it leaves their offensive line up kinda weak". "Yea but if the kid in net is that good, they should be safe" Marty offered. Simon played another card and Nash pegged off of him again. "Don't forget, you can't win a defensive game. If they can't score then it doesn't matter how good the goalie is, they can't win" Simon concluded. The bar flies all nodded and conceded to Simons' wisdom. He had a fairly good record for predictions. Not perfect by any means but he was right about three quarters of the time.

Murry Smith, another of the regulars finally asked Simon "How is that book you are working on?" Simon took a sip of his beer "Oh I got twice as much done this week as last week." Murray chuckled "Two times nothing is still nothing." Simon nodded sheepishly. Murray called out again “Hey Simon, what huts worse, childbirth or kick to the sack”? “I give up, what hurts more” he asked from across the bar. A kick to the sack does, most women eventually want to have another child, no man wants another kick to the sack” Murray said. Everyone laughed.

 

As the evening progressed, Nash became pleasantly drunk yet never lost his talent for the game. He just grinned a lot more and bobbed his head a lot. Simon finally had to call it a night. It was after eleven PM. He had not won a single game. In fact he only won one single hand over the whole night. He patted Nash on the shoulder "Someday, you gotta teach me your secrets." Nash just smiled. No matter how drunk he got from the free beer he won, he almost never to lose his touch. It almost seemed supernatural. When Simon was paying for the drinks with his card, Sheila asked him "Have you started dating yet”? She asked conversationally. Like any stereotypical bartender, she knew her customers well. They were all a sort of friends to her and being interpersonal with them she had learned usually lead to bigger tips. Simon gave a tight smile "Nope, I have made more than enough mistakes in my time. Next time it will be with no compromises. I won't settle for less than 'Miss Right' for a 'Miss Right Now',... not ever again." Sheila knew Simon had been wanting to date his fellow reporter named Cassandra Heath. He had talked about how beautiful she was and how she was smart and dedicated. Unfortunately it also meant she was basically married to her work. When Simon had seen her go out, it was often with someone rich or powerful. It seemed that she also just did that to get the story. Her stunning looks made that type of investigation easy for her. ‘Cassie’ was a ruthless reporter in that way. Simon knew deep down that she would never be more than a casual friend to a quiet guy that made only a modest wage like him. She was way out if his league but he just held out that small glimmer of hope against all odds.

When Simon got home there was a message on his answering machine "Hi Simon, It's Tina. How are you...I hope you are having a great day. Harry wants to see you in his office tomorrow morning. Call me when you get this, I'll probably be here till at least nine. Bye...". Simon dutifully called the editors office but nobody answered. He assumed that they had gone home. He decided to get some sleep, He set his alarm and went to bed. His cat Oscar joined him and settled in to sleep on top of the covers between his knees. When Simon awoke to answer natures’ call several hours later, he realized that he had not moved. The cat was still happily wedged between his knees and Simon felt very stiff, like he had not moved in hours. At great effort he managed to extricate himself without disturbing Oscar. When he went back to bed, he made sure to sleep beside and not around the cat.  

 

The next morning came too soon. 'BUZZZZZZZZ' Simon was not eager to get up at the beckoning of his alarm clock "Yea yea" he protested into his pillow at the intrusion. He clumsily poked at the buttons without looking until the alarm finally ceased it's annoying sound. Simon considered snoozing 10 more minutes but knew it was a losing game. You just don’t get quality sleep and then you had less time to get your day started. He blearily sat up, paused then padded off to the washroom. After going though his usual morning routines, Simon headed for the offices of the newspaper where he worked. Since the advent of modern computing, he rarely visited the office. His regular column and the sidelines he wrote meant that he could generally just email his contributions in.

He reached the floor of the editor, Harrold Dorschel and was greeted by Harry's executive assistant Tina Blake "Good morning Simon". The bookish but cute Tina had long admired Simon. Her large brown eyes hidden behind her.