An Update on L' Affaire de Coeur

My ongoing, almost exhausting, affair with my dancer girlfriend Helena continues but has hit a small snag. As regular readers know, I was hopeful that her ex boyfriend would be released from his electronic tether and move out of her apartment... leaving behind a cozy, yet cluttered lovenest .. at least on the nights Helena's cousin can watch her kid. (It is hard to find a steady sitter for a child with HDD, ADD, Defiance Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder. The last two in particular make him sulky, and too anxious to do anything actually defiant).

Well this happened. The jackass finally packed up his shot glass collection and Jimmy Buffet paraphernalia and moved on. (He did leave behind the ParrotHead Ab Reducer, which leaves open certain possibilities.) But Helena is in the dumps. The kind of dumps that ... inhibit things even in the face of a perfectly serviceable piece of well padded exercise equipment).

Bottom line. She wants a bigger apartment. Someplace she can do her Art. By which I mean her sculptures of clowns and children with prominent ears. (The painted ones are very nice, although there seems to be a limited market for life size sculptures of clowns. Particularly as they have no trousers.) Because dancing doesn't pay much when you have visible scarring, and some noticeable asymmetry she was hoping I could chip in. I am loathe to fork over any hard earned dollars, but who can resist the doe- eyes of a girl with permanent mascara?

Luckily I can confide all this to you dear readers, without any fear that my wife will find out about my Tasty Tryst. You see, she doesn't read The Overpass.