Text Messages From Rachelle

These are the texts that I received from my wife Rachelle while she was driving home from work yesterday:

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R: Oh Pickle, I just saw the worst thing!!

R: A man jumped from the Lawrence overpass onto the Don Valley Parkway and I saw his body, pinned underneath a pick-up truck. Just horrifying.

R: Sorry?

R: Oh, I see, your lunch was horrifying.

R: How sad for you that you had to eat the leftover lasagna I made the other night.

R: You’re very brave to endure such brutality.

R: You’re right, I should call it Pink Slimeasagna.

R: Regardless, imagine being behind the wheel of that truck, seeing a man jump and then running over him? Good God, that person will never be the same.

R: No, I don’t mean the person who jumped.

R: The driver.

R: No, I am NOT taking video of it!!

R: It would be awful for the driver to live with that, it would be a life-altering event.

R: Ha-ha. Yes, I’m sure that my leftover Pink Slimeasagna was a life-altering event, too. You’re very funny today, dear.

R: You had a coffee, didn’t you?

R: Sorry?

R: Well, I had never thought about it until now.

R: I suppose driving over a person who had just committed suicide would be more traumatic than seeing a UFO abducting a cow for probing.

R: How would you know?

R: Oh, that’s right, you have lucid dreams!

R: And in these lucid dreams you see UFO’s and drive over suicides?

R: I see.

R: Right, right, Night Time is Mike Time.

R: Did you really have that printed on a T-shirt in high school?

R: Very cool, I bet you were very popular with the ladies.

R: Sure.

R: Yes, I know, you were good at sports, too.

R: Now tell me, back in high school when Night Time was Mike Time, did you wear a Breathe-Rite strip to bed?

R: A Lucid Dreaming sleep mask.

R: It all makes sense now, you know.

R: Me?

R: I could dunk a basketball in high school.

R: And I had many lovers, some of them black, black as the night, Pickle.

R: I’m not being racist. I’m just stating a fact.

R: I never told you this, but I had a baby, a black baby.

R: Because I gave her up for adoption.

R: I was young, that’s why.

R: Her name is Jada.

R: Her father?

R: We haven’t seen one another in months, but we’re Facebook friends.

R: I think he knows about you.

R: Yeah, I think so. Maybe.

R: Not sure.

R: What does he do?

R: Well, he won Survivor: Fiji, but he’s really an entrepreneur, philanthropist, producer and advertising executive.

R: He looks a bit like Marvin Gaye.

R: But that’s all in the past!

R: You wrote a letter to Erin Collins from Survivor: Thailand?

R: You admired her grit?

R: Did she ever write back?

R: Oh, that’s too bad, Pickle.

R: Tell me about some of your high school sweethearts!

R: Oh, well I’m sure playing the field was a very good strategy for you.

R: Yeah, keep your options open.

R: What was high school like in the 50’s, anyway?

R: Okay, see you soon, xox