The Three Wise Men

I’d been feeling so dismayed by the ongoing turbulence between J-Fed and I that I realized I needed help from a higher power. That’s when I turned to the three wise men for support. Now, they weren’t from Bethlehem, they were from Jordan, Lebanon and Israel and they ran the local gas station up the street.

J-Fed had long been a patron of the store, making frequent stops throughout the day to stock up Frappaccinos and Newports. After all these years, they were like family, brothers from another mother. In fact, what he spent in coffee drinks and cigarettes probably put one of their kids through college. Well, J-Fed was nothing if not loyal… to everyone else in this world but Kiki.

Needless to say, the three wise men had come to love us over the years. Every holiday we brought them up a plate of food while they were working. The three wise men always appreciated our kindness and our continued patronage. Secretly, they probably laughed their asses off and spent their days counting the wads of dough J-Fed blew at their store, but that didn’t bother me one bit. I laughed at J-Fed all the time so they were definitely in good company.

So when they asked me how things were going at home, I had to shake my head in dismay and throw my hands up. I dropped the bomb that J-Fed was long gone. The Three Wise Men grew solemn. They didn’t like what they were hearing at all. I explained that J-Fed had moved on to greener pastures, as in the nice apartments down the street all by his lonesome.

“Noooooooooo,” the three wise men exclaimed in unison.

“But you have a new baby,” said the first wise man, offering me an ice cold Perrier. “You have a lovely family.”

The second wise man agreed and sighed heavily.

”How is this?” he asked. “You’re beautiful woman. You make good money. You have good job. This can’t be so.”

The third wise man pondered long and hard before joining in.

“He’s hyper, you know. Maybe it’s from all that shit he puts in his body. Maybe it’s rotting his brain. It can’t be good drinking all that coffee and smoking so many cigarettes all day,” he pointed out.

“But you love each other. You’re the perfect couple. You’re so good together. I just don’t believe it,” protested wise man two.

The three wise men were obviously stunned by the J-Fed’s rapid departure from Basketcaseville. After passing along their condolences, they wished me well. I felt some small piece of consolation in knowing that they were with me in my journey. I also took heart in the realization that they were sure to give J-Fed a piece of their mind the next time he came in, which would be in an hour or so, when he needed to “Frap up.”

You see, they were three wise men, and J-Fed, well, he was a mental midget who wouldn’t know a good woman if she bit him in the ass.