"The house in Georgia? He picked that motherf***er out, I didn’t. He picked out all the shit inside, too. Now you tell me: You are living in a house, don’t you want to pick the shit out for that motherf***er? Hell, yes! But did he consult me on any of that shit before he bought it? Hell, no! HELL NO!”
Eileen Kelly
I was fascinated on so many levels. I had never heard of a house referred to as a motherf***er. I pictured real estate agents glomming on to the term and using it with potential clients:
“This stately four-bedroom motherf***er has central air and a modern eat-in kitchen.”
I also never heard anyone call furniture “shit.” Not even shitty furniture.
"The house in Georgia"? How many houses were there that they had to be identified by state? It was like listening to a couple of Scarsdale wives but with flava, you know? And gratuitous swearing, of which I’m a big fan. I was enthralled.
“But he’s a good man, so I overlooked that. And I just made the best of it. Before he come home from work at night, I made sure I was dressed nice, had my lipstick on, I greet him at the door. You know what he did?”
What did he do? Now I’m breaking out snacks from my purse. Tell me!
“That motherf***er walk right past me, no kiss, no nothin,’ and check the mail. He check... the goddamn... MAIL! I learned my shit the hard way. Now when he come home, I’m upstairs in the computer room, I’m down on the treadmill. He can come and find me. Check the mail. Mmph!!”
That motherf***er. And I don’t mean the house.
“Like I said before, he’s a good man, but I want a relationship. A rela – tion – ship. And if I decide to walk away from this, I’ll take my clothes and my shit and go. I don’t need anything from him. I tell you, girl, I’m about ready to find me number three. I go out, and I find myself checking out the scene, saying, “Is that number three? Is that number three? Is that number three?”
I guess everyone’s trying to make it work. There seems to come a point in every marriage where one or both are frustrated or angry or hurt. Some people live the rest of their lives in quiet misery, some go to couple’s therapy.
And some look for number three.
Eileen was a semi-finalist in Nick at Nite’s “Search for the Funniest Mom in America,” and made a name for herself with " My Pony's in the Garage," which premiered at the NY Fringe Festival. She is currently writing a memoir based on her solo show and has written several treatments and spec scripts for television. She likes Springsteen, cheap beer and good Italian bread. Did we mention she’s from Jersey?
