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schmericaI believe in love
but it don't believe in me
Ray had it all planned out. First he went, not just to the grocery store for some cheap stuff, but into one of the big fancy candy places, got her a big fancy gift basket that came up to his knee and cost ten times as much. He went down to the florist's and got her a bouquet -- not roses, because she never liked those too much, but a bunch of daisies, all different colors. He went down to the jewelers and the guy there assured him his wife would like nothing better than a little tiny glittery diamond bracelet.
Ray got all the purchases into his car, and then he stopped on the way to pick up a bottle of champagne. He piled the chocolates and the flowers and the jewelry and the bottle all in his arms and he got all the way up to Stella's floor on the apartment building without dropping anything. He didn't have any hands free to knock on the door, so he kicked it lightly twice instead.
There was a long pause before Stella answered the door.
Ray shuffled from one foot to the other and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, Stell."
Stella had only opened the door a couple of inches, just enough so he could see her face and nothing else. She looked tired -- she didn't even have any make-up on, which was almost a freak occurrence in Stella-land. Stella said, "Ray, what are you doing here?"
Ray said, "It's Valentine's Day. I thought you and me, maybe we could--"
"We're separated, Ray. Do you know what that means?" She glared at him.
Ray didn't mind Stella pissed, but Stella patronizing and mean always worked his last nerve. "Yeah, I think I figured it out," he said. He smiled wide and mean and fake, showing his teeth. "That's the part where you tear us apart and make both of us miserable, right?"
Stella sighed, all long suffering, and said, "I don't want you here. Go home, Ray."
Ray tried to get his foot in the crack before she could close the door, but Stella was too quick, and instead he just lost his balance and dropped everything in his arms on the floor.
Ray stared down at the carpet and all the romantic crap he had spent all the time and money going around to get, everything that was supposed to be perfect. "Fine," he yelled, so Stella could hear him on the other side of the door. "I'll just go, then. You might as well keep this shit, though. I don't want it."
He started to walk away, but at the last moment he came back and grabbed the champagne to take home with him.
but it don't believe in me
Ray had it all planned out. First he went, not just to the grocery store for some cheap stuff, but into one of the big fancy candy places, got her a big fancy gift basket that came up to his knee and cost ten times as much. He went down to the florist's and got her a bouquet -- not roses, because she never liked those too much, but a bunch of daisies, all different colors. He went down to the jewelers and the guy there assured him his wife would like nothing better than a little tiny glittery diamond bracelet.
Ray got all the purchases into his car, and then he stopped on the way to pick up a bottle of champagne. He piled the chocolates and the flowers and the jewelry and the bottle all in his arms and he got all the way up to Stella's floor on the apartment building without dropping anything. He didn't have any hands free to knock on the door, so he kicked it lightly twice instead.
There was a long pause before Stella answered the door.
Ray shuffled from one foot to the other and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, Stell."
Stella had only opened the door a couple of inches, just enough so he could see her face and nothing else. She looked tired -- she didn't even have any make-up on, which was almost a freak occurrence in Stella-land. Stella said, "Ray, what are you doing here?"
Ray said, "It's Valentine's Day. I thought you and me, maybe we could--"
"We're separated, Ray. Do you know what that means?" She glared at him.
Ray didn't mind Stella pissed, but Stella patronizing and mean always worked his last nerve. "Yeah, I think I figured it out," he said. He smiled wide and mean and fake, showing his teeth. "That's the part where you tear us apart and make both of us miserable, right?"
Stella sighed, all long suffering, and said, "I don't want you here. Go home, Ray."
Ray tried to get his foot in the crack before she could close the door, but Stella was too quick, and instead he just lost his balance and dropped everything in his arms on the floor.
Ray stared down at the carpet and all the romantic crap he had spent all the time and money going around to get, everything that was supposed to be perfect. "Fine," he yelled, so Stella could hear him on the other side of the door. "I'll just go, then. You might as well keep this shit, though. I don't want it."
He started to walk away, but at the last moment he came back and grabbed the champagne to take home with him.
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(no subject)
16/7/05 21:04 (UTC)*sniffles and takes a swig of Ray's champagne*
(no subject)
16/7/05 21:08 (UTC)(no subject)
16/7/05 23:31 (UTC)poor Ray, I'm glad he grabbed the champagne at least.
and now we imagine future celebrations with Fraser, and they're much less complicated and much more sincere, and everyone wins!
(no subject)
17/7/05 22:38 (UTC)(no subject)
17/7/05 15:34 (UTC)(no subject)
17/7/05 22:38 (UTC)(no subject)
18/7/05 07:52 (UTC)Add one mountie for the next experiment and wear goggles with mufflers. Record verbal abuse by subject to mountie.
Hypothesis: Ray + One Benton Fraser RCMP = BOOM!