Zippy the Wonder Slug

Someone on Facebook asked about my ex husband the other day. It was just a general, "hey does anyone know where _________ is? I don't know, actually, and while I don't wish him any harm, I also have no desire to reconnect that wire.

I gave him the nickname Zippy the Wonder Slug because I'm mean and heartless. Okay, not really. He earned that nickname for a couple of reasons. First, he had the oddest run of anyone I've ever seen. Watching him move, you wouldn't think that he could move quickly - kind of like how a bee shouldn't be able to fly - but by golly, he could be speedy. It never failed to amaze me. The wonder slug part came because he hated to do anything. On Saturdays, I'd get up and go do whatever. He'd slide out of bed after noon, slither to the couch or recliner, and sit there. He'd eventually get hungry and he'd slither into the kitchen where he'd inevitably eat something really really bad for you. I compare it to the Friends episode where they showed what would happen if Monica and Joey had ended up together....fried stuff with cheese. We went to a Shoney's breakfast buffet once and he heaped a dinner size plate with eggs, smothered it with the nacho cheese sauce stuff and ate it all - in addition to a plate of bacon. And he really wasn't overweight. It was the darnedest thing.

Of course, this was the guy who hit on my brother's date while the four of us were at a function of the company I worked for at the time. And he hit on her with my brother and I sitting right there. In plain view of my boss and coworkers. Just in case you are thinking (like I would be) maybe he was just being nice - uh uh. He was sitting beside her and rubbing his hand up and down her leg. Because, you know, he didn't see anything wrong with the fact that we were married, they were not, and that she was there with my brother. As his date.

There was also the time we were out at a club with two mutual friends of ours. The club had a go go cage on each side of the stage and for whatever reason, two girls got in the go go cages and started to strip. Most men just watched, a few tipped, but Zippy? He climbed INTO the cage with one of them and started to take off his shirt. Uh, hellllooooooooooo. On what planet would you ever think that's a good idea? I can't remember if we got thrown out because of that little scene or if we left voluntarily. I tend to think the bouncers would have voluntold him to leave - it's not like go go cages are roomy, and if the amateur stripper had taken a notion, she could have charged him with sexual assault. And yes, we were drinking, but not enough to explain that behavior.

There are many more stories about Zippy, but I think the picture has been pretty accurately painted. My brother will be happy to tell you about how he used to bathe with the dog (don't ask) and about sixteen other things off the top of his head, but none of them are flattering. Which is a shame, because Zippy was a sweet guy with a big heart. He was just missing some sort of appropriate behavior chip. I can't imagine any marriage could survive that kind of consistent behavior. It's also funny in my blast from the past experiences of the last week and a half or so that it never occurred to me to look him up, even thought he was my first real crush when I was 13. He was also my first real kiss. It's too bad it ended up the way it did, even though I'd go through it again to be able to meet and marry R and have this wonderful, blessed life we have.