Praise God

I don't want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run.
- Cake

Rom and I are finallly united in our hatred for each other. The marriage rites are over and we are now (puke!) husband and wife.

We obviously skip the honeymoon and my old room in Princeton is the safest place to hide from him and from everybody else. This is where I take refuge before I have to face the world and show up for work.

I'm gloomy and can't concentrate on my job which is to clean toilets and I ask my fellow toilet-scrubers, "What should I do? I hate him. I've always hated him and now I'm (puke!) married to him."

"Gosh," they say. "Talk to him. Reverse it. There has to be a way."

Funnily enough, I see Rom pass by the rows of toilets I have to clean and we merely smile that makes us both look like we are constipated.

Later, I confront him and remember to apply the sandwich approach. Positive-negative-positive. "Rom," I begin by ass-kissing, "I've always thought you were a logical man."

I can't believe it. This insincere statement has captivated him. He sits enthralled, waiting for more. I take advantage of my momentum and continue.

"But it looks like, through no fault of ours, we've gotten ourselves in an Impossible Situation."

He agrees, I can't believe how easy this is going to be. This is, by far, the easiest breakup I have ever engineered!

"You and I will have to work together to un-marry ourselves." I pause dramatically. "Do you concur?"

"What?" Hay dios ko, bobo talaga.

"Do you agree?" I paraphrase.

"Yes, yes, surely."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" I say. I am starting to see the light.

"What is it, what is it?" he asks.

"Diba before you left for Australia, you married what's-her-face? O, that means, under Philippine Law, you're still married to her! Therefore your marriage to me is - is - NULL! Diba? Makes sense?"

"Tama ka Camille but now what are we gonna do? Our parents..."

"Never mind our parents! Let me call my lawyer." By 'my lawyer' I just mean 'my friend Naj.'

We sit nervously while I call her cell. When she picks up I start ranting, "Tangina, Naj. So, Rom and I got (puke!) married totally against our wishes and so we want to reverse it and it turns out he's still married to what's-her-face, at least under Philippine law. God, I so want out of this. Can you get me out of this?"

"Camille," she says quite puzzled, "you don't have to look to Rom's marriage because... You are married. Remember? You married Paolo!"

"Ooohhhhh! You're right! Fuck! Praise God!"