We were together a long time, Dave and I. The guy made me laugh, you know? I’m a sucker for men who make me laugh and he did. Better than anyone. You never knew what was coming with that guy, there was nothing predictable about him. Except you knew he’d be there. Every night. Like clockwork. Until now.
Now he’s leaving me. Do you believe that? After 33 years, it’s adios. He can’t get out the door fast enough. By morning he’ll be a tender memory. Do I get an apology, alimony? I do not. He’s made a public spectacle out of his decision to leave, turning it into a circus.
Has he once thought about my feelings, what I want? Has he ever? Pffft, he doesn’t even acknowledge me — in his eyes, I don’t exist. I’m nobody. I only counted in the Nielsen ratings.
Well, Mr. Big Shot Comedian, take your goofy, gap-toothed grin and go. Forget about me and my unflagging loyalty, my devoted faithfulness. I’ll remember you, though. I’ll remember you and the Bookmobile lady; I’ll remember the Velcro suit and the watermelons off the roof. Everything.
This little stunt, though? It isn’t funny at all. Who’s gonna make me laugh now, you rat bastard? Stephen Colbert? Hardly. I may never laugh again.