Man Punches Wife During Sleep – Claims Nocturnal Amnesia!
I can remember the first time I read “Dear Abby,” – I think I was 12 years old and thought it was cool that a woman in the newspaper had the answers to everyone’s problems. I never felt like I had anyone to go to with my problems and fantasized about writing to Abby for help on what to do about being jealous of my perfect older sister – mainly because she was perfect, and of course, she was mom’s favorite. (It kind of sucked.) But somehow I managed to get through my inferiority complex (10 years later) – I moved out of state, and got on with my life without Abby’s help – amazing!
Now my problem today is not that Dear old Abby gives out advice – it’s the advice that she sometimes gives. Take this “Abby” letter I came across today, for instance. It’s from a woman named, “All About Bob in Alabama,” who claims her husband beat her in her sleep three years ago. Now “Bob,” her husband, apparently has never done anything like this before and really has never been a violent person (really Mrs. All About?) But on one particular night, Bob pinned her under the sheets and just started wailing on her – punching her face and body and going at her like Muhammad Ali on Joe Frazier in the famous “Thrilla in Manila.”
Mrs. All About’s response to this incident leaves me completely baffled. After she awoke in the morning with her face looking like ground hamburger meat, she confronted Bob (aka Muhammad) who suddenly had boxing amnesia – and claimed he had no recollection of the incident. This part of the story doesn’t upset me as much as the continued tale Mrs. All About tells – that she has been going to counseling for three years and sleeps in a separate room with the door locked now. Seriously Mrs. All About Bob – WAKE UP!! What are you going to counseling for, how to lay more still while Bob punches you next time? Maybe you need advice on how to better barricade your guest room door so Bob the boxer can’t break into the guest room and start sleep punching you there?
In the “Abby” letter, Mrs. All About Bob actually mentions that she doesn’t know how long she can stay in her loveless marriage to Bob the nocturnal wife-beater. I am more than just a little miffed that Abby didn’t reply with the following:
“Dear Mrs. All About, I have read your letter regarding your nocturnal wife-beating husband, Boob … I mean Bob. You should proceed with the following actions immediately:
· Call the airline and book a one way ticket to Las Vegas.
· Pack as many belongings as you can fit into one large suitcase (weight limit 50 lbs. by most airlines) and one small carry-on bag (limit 22 in. x 14in.) for an overhead compartment.
· Call your counselor and leave the following message, “Thanks for nothing. You should have told me 35 months ago to leave my loser husband. Last month I noticed your new Lexus with the vanity plate, ‘HUMANA.’ I am assuming this is a reference to the three years of checks you’ve been receiving from my insurance company for your crappy advice. I’d like to cancel my appointment for this Tuesday.”
· Make an appointment at a salon and cut your hair to a short “bob” and dye it platinum blonde. On the way home, stop off and buy a pair of red, sky-high stiletto heels, you will need them when you arrive at your destination.
· When you arrive in Vegas, go to the Wynn Casino and apply for a cocktail waitress position under the alias “Candy,” – welcome to your new life, otherwise known as “The Shellitini witness protection program.”
Signed – Shellitini, The New and Improved Abby
In my world, when Mrs. All About asked Abby how long she should stay in her loveless marriage, she should have replied, “Only as long as it takes to get your booty to your lawyer to start your divorce papers.” Now the beauty of this particular witness protection program is that Bob will go to sleep tonight, all kinds of excited that he’s going to try to break into his wifey’s barricaded room to try to punch her, only to find that she’s moved to Las Vegas, cut her hair to an adorable bob (for spite), changed her name to Candy and become a cocktail waitress wearing the hottest pair of red stilettos on the casino floor! I find it so satisfying that every day when “Candy” straps on those heels and counts out her last night’s tips she won’t be able to help but smile and think, “What about THIS, BOB?!”
xoxo Shellitini
© 2009 – Shelli Netko
To view the referenced “Dear Abby” letter click the following Yahoo news link: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ucda/20090406/lf_ucda/husbandsnightmareattackleaveswifetrappedinfear;_ylt=AioIcplklojLsA1wDDWMtP0EtbAF
Want to check out the Wynn on line? http://www.wynnlasvegas.com/#homepage/
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