Chapter One, Page 1

“Good grief! Where’s the toilet paper?”

I stared at the empty toilet paper holder next to the green toilet and hoped a new roll would magically appear.

That’s right! Less than an hour ago while on the balcony, I used the cardboard tube to spy on that overly affectionate young couple in the park across the street. I enjoyed being sneaky, too, just like all those paparazzi buzzards.

Suddenly, my gut cramped up, meaning only a few more seconds to get on my mark. Maybe Lydia’s ugly bathroom is causing my stomach pain? I wish I knew what crime I committed to be stuck in this dump. Since meeting Ms. Supermodel on New Year’s Eve, I blamed the champagne sloshing in my skull for choosing her as my lover. Unfortunately, my intention was to marry her, and I’m so damn lucky that boneheaded idea didn’t pan out. After four and a half months, Lydia is still a stranger to me, and I don’t want to associate with her anymore.

I’ve never viewed myself as a needy man, but why would I continue a downhill relationship with the dullest woman in the universe? Plus, she doesn’t have the basic necessities, like edible food, interesting reading material and, more importantly, toilet paper?

Even though eating disorders are the first requirement in being a Supermodel, these gals still need to eat, read and take a crap!

And the tabloids continue to proclaim me as the freakiest celebrity.

Hah!

Every week, my therapist, John Fremont, nags that Lydia isn’t the right gal for me. I suppose I should listen to his advice for once considering he’s been my psychiatrist for the past two-and-aalf years. Okay, this afternoon I’ll let him preach. However, following his advice is an entirely different matter.