Picking up the telephone extension without noticing the blinking red light had been his undoing.

Is that what she really felt? Why didn’t she ever tell him instead of complaining to her friend? And all those times….O Lord she had been faking it. He was the fool for believing that they had the perfect marriage.
Fool for loving her… Fool for trusting her. All the times he had dropped her off at the yoga studio, happy in the knowledge that yoga made her happy. But it wasn’t the yoga, it was the damn yoga instructor! And what did that make him? A pimp and a damn fool.

He needed to get out of the house, get away from her, get away so that he could think again. Plan. But his stupid brain was not cooperating. It kept reliving that overheard conversation again and again.
Boring. She had called him boring.
The buzzing was beginning to give him a full blown headache, his insecurity growing steadily until it dominated his emotions.

Andy got into his car and started driving.

He was no bore. He would show her. He was a sexy virile man and just because he had taken himself off the market did not mean that he was no longer desirable.

What started out as a timid placation became a continual chant, I am not boring, my life is not boring, a chant so strong that he resolved to break out of his comfort zone, do something uncharacteristic, hit the bar perhaps, get drunk, and maybe, yes maybe even pick up a girl.
Yes, that’s what he needed. One night of debauchery to make him feel like a man again.

At the outskirts of town he spotted the perfect little bar. Cheap and sleazy. Not the kind of place where he would have to worry about bumping into anyone from work, the kind of place where the girls looked easy. Perfect.

Perched on a barstool, he ordered a vodka straight, and looked around. It was a rustic country bar, old blues music played, smoke permeating the air, couples making out unabashedly, and then he saw her. Blond hair, shy smile, a plunging neckline making her almost transparent top look even sexier, short skirt, and legs that went on forever and ended in 6 inch fuck me heels. Drop dead gorgeous.

She sashayed up to him, shot him a coquettish smile, and perched on the stool beside. I’ll have what he’s having, she told the bartender. For the next hour they drank, and flirted, and eventually when it looked like he was never going to summon up the courage to make a move, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Are we ever going to get out of here or do you just want to pass out drunk with a sexy woman next to you?

Despite the blood rushing to his groin, Andy hesitated. This was not him.

Until he remembered the phone conversation and the chant started playing in his mind again. I am not boring. My life is not boring.

With that the decision was made.

They got into his car and he couldn’t hold back any more. Like a man possessed he grabbed her hair and pulled her forcefully towards himself, meeting her mouth in a frenzied clash of lips and teeth, breathing in her aroma, tasting the sweetness of a willing woman after a long long time. His eyes closed tightly he was lost in his desperation when suddenly he heard the bang of the rear door. Startled, he jerked around to see the man who had simply plopped into his car.

“What the hell man, this is not a cab you just get into. Get out. This is my car.” Andy screamed.

“And now it’s my car,” was all he heard.

He didn’t hear the gun fire. He didn’t see the blood. He never even realised that she was the one who had pulled the trigger.

Poor Andy! He lived a boring life, but at least he saw an exciting end.

Smoking gun

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