What I think about remarrying

(originally written 12/04/06)

One of my favorite restaurants in Yuma, my hometown, is called Lutes Casino. It's not so much a casino as a pool hall with a snack bar that serves burgers (including one called the Especial -- a burger with a sliced hot dog in it. No one eats it because they like it; they eat it so they can say they've eaten it). They also serve the world's best rolled tacos, even better than the ones at the Chile Pepper, my favorite restaurant in the Western Hemisphere.

Anyway, Lutes also has video games and one of those claw machines. You know, you stick in money, you guide the claw and you hope you can extract one of the prizes inside. On my birthday more than 10 years ago, I stuck 50 cents in that machine and got a plastic mug on my first try. I've never tried it again.

I can honestly say I have a 100 percent success rate with claw machines. If I tried again and failed (which, let's face it, is a strong possibility), I could only say I have a 50 percent success rate. Besides, it'd never be as good as that first time, where I succeeded despite not knowing what the hell I was doing.

What does this have to do with remarrying? Substitute the word "marriage" for the words "claw machines" in the previous paragraph, and you get the picture.

I reserve the right to change my mind, of course. I just don't expect to.