Like A Slap In The FaceToday was starting to look like a good day. The sky was clear and the weather beautiful.
At least... I assume it was.
It's always nice inside.
I actually had a passable day at work with what I consider a small number of retards.
Just a couple hundred.
I had just gotten home, spent some time with my daughter, and then went to log in on my main character.
That was when I got a figurative slap in the face.
And by "figurative", I mean "literal".
There I was, just typing in my password, when I got slammed in the face with a handful of pages. As the few pages fell away from my stinging cheek, I saw Susan.
The look in her eye was... Scary.
Yes, I know I'm much larger than her.
I am much stronger than her.
Still... Little bit scary.
Now, I'm not sure if you've ever been slapped in the face with a handful of paper.
Spoiler: Not fun.
My face was stinging sharply and I could feel it starting to swell a little.
I started to wonder if there was a problem.
I'm smart like that.
Usually, a guy would be able to figure out the problem pretty quickly. Most guys generally do not do a number of things that warrant that kind of strike.
I'm not most guys.
Did she find that vase I broke?
Did she find her favorite shoe that I scuffed?
Did she find the vast array of meticulously organized and categorized pornography hidden on an extra harddrive?
The possibilities were practically limitless.
I say practically because I just haven't had enough time to do every terrible thing a human being could do.
I need to sleep sometime.
Now, this is the part where most guys would start apologizing.
Not so fast. I kind of need to know what she's mad about before I confess to anything.
No point sharing felonies for no good damned reason.
Then, as I thought about it, I realized the paper might be important to the conversation. There were other weapons in the house and, honestly, paper is not really that dangerous.
I would have had to cautiously sneak a look at the papers.
I would have... If she hadn't thrust them directly into my face.
Yup... Papers are important.
Susan>> What do you have to say?
[GM]Dave>> I'm going to go with...
Susan>> I'm not laughing.
[GM]Dave>> Neither am I.
[GM]Dave>> I'm the one who just got smacked in my face.
Susan>> That's right.
Susan>> And you deserved it.
This was probably correct.
It would, however, be very stupid to admit that.
[GM]Dave>> For what?
That's it... Buy some time.
Then hit her with a vase...
Susan>> Just read it.
I took the pages from her hand and started to read. It seemed to be a post from a blog. A very smart, witty post from an obviously intelligent blog.
Yes, it was one of my posts.
I would be less insulted if you hadn't guessed that right away.
It was this post.
Apparently, I had made a sort of big deal about her playing a WoW trial. I may or may not have likened it to sleeping with another man.
This would not be a problem had I not just FINISHED PLAYING A WOW TRIAL.
Then she started to yell.
I don't know. Something about a pot and a kettle and a discussion about color.
I didn't really pay attention.
I was busy waiting for her to throw another punch. Wife or not, one swing and she gets a Hadouken upside her head.
The yelling started to slow and diminish in volume. This meant she was starting to wrap it up.
Better start paying attention again.
Susan>> And what do you have to say for yourself?
Think think think.
[GM]Dave>> Did you really print this out?
[GM]Dave>> That was a little unnecessary.
[GM]Dave>> You're just wasting paper.
This was the wrong answer.
Have you ever been hit with a laptop?