Part 54: Elysha

Last chapter at last

Elysha and I sit side by side for this last chapter of the packet. Up until now, I’ve been summarizing the packet to her. Reading sections aloud and sharing the context.

Now we’re doing it together, step by step.

It makes sense. It’s about her.

14) Elysha

a. “Elysha and I also admitted to one another, as we watched the interview, that we can’t help but assume that people with accents like these are not the sharpest knives in the drawer.

Not all Southern accents. As Elysha describes them, “Those deep-fried southern accents.”

We know it’s wrong to feel this way, yet it feels so right.”

This excerpt refers to a now-defunct website featuring individuals making terrible decisions.

Almost all of them had very pronounced Southern accents, and yes, we admitted that we often assume the worst when we hear these accents — especially when they jump off houses into pools but miss the pool — and we also know it’s wrong.

Elysha hates that this post exists.

I understand.

I don’t mind exposing flaws and biases to the world because I know we all have them. Tragically, it’s the human condition.

But unlike me, Elysha, like most people, cares deeply what others think about her.

If I’m poking at people’s sensibilities or annoying them with my opinions, I’m happy. I like challenging beliefs, expressing vulnerability, and admitting to stupidity.

She is not. Nor should she.

b. “ ... She was tough and forceful and borderline rude and I loved it. No one dared to even look in our direction for a full 15 minutes.

Elysha is a badass. I need to see more of this, because it was fantastic.”

This is from a post mentioned in another chapter about the time we were shopping for the suit I would wear to the wedding and encountered a pushy Nordstrom salesperson.

She was all of these things, and it was brilliant.

Nothing wrong here, even without the context.

c. “... Even Elysha has gotten upset with me in the past for not telling her about information that I had been asked to keep quiet about.”

True. Tell me to keep a secret, and I keep it from everyone.

Elysha included.

This is what the whole post describes.

It’s nothing, with ot without the context. So stupid of my enemies to include.

Except they aren’t my enemies. They are our enemies. Even though the vast majority of the letter and the packet are aimed at ruining me, there is a chapter about Elysha and a demand that she be fired as well.

I may be receiving the brunt of their attack, but these cowards are Elysha’s enemies, too. I need to remember this.

I’m sure she does.

d. “Elysha’s latest creation! My wife is a very talented woman!

Elysha designed the banners for my blog, Perpetual Perpetuity, before Paul asked me to take them down.

Also, nothing wrong here. She’s clever, skilled, and brilliant. A master of Photoshop.

e. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “I know how much you like it when other people suffer.”

This was already included in a previous chapter. It refers to a wedding where I was the DJ. It was drizzling, and the bride couldn’t decide if her ceremony should be held outside or inside. She eventually chose to bring it indoors, which meant the only person wet and cold that day was me, who had to be ready in case she decided to move it outside.

When I told Elysha that I was the only person at the wedding who was wet and shivering, she responded with:

“I’m sorry, honey. I know how much you like it when other people suffer.”

A joke that the authors tried to make sound worse by deliberately excluding context.

f. “The website address for the latest Pepsi campaign is brownandbubbly.com.

Really?

Elysha pointed out that this would be the perfect address for an African-American porn site.”

Elysha hates that this exists in the packet. She thinks it makes her sound terrible.

I tell her about my friends at McDonald’s and their opinions — some thought it was funny, while others didn’t, and none of them found it offensive at all — but she is still upset.

I still think it’s funny.

But I get it. She’s not me.

She also shouldn’t be drawn into any of this.

It’s my fault. Once again, I can’t help but think that had she married someone other than me, she would be smiling today instead of looking so worried and so sad.

“Finished,” she says, pushing the packet away. “Good job, honey.” She tells me that she knows how hard it’s been to read the letters and the packet. “Reading those awful things over and over again can’t be good for you, even if we know they’re not true.

She’s right.

Then she hugs me and tells me that I didn’t do anything wrong. She loves me. She’s proud of me. I’m going to win.

It’s like she was reading my mind.

Tomorrow we’ll know for sure.

Tomorrow I’ll walk into Paul’s office again, and within a couple of minutes, I’ll know if this career that I have built for myself will still be my own.

It’s been three days since I entered Paul’s office and had my life turned upside down.

It feels like it’s been a month.

I can’t wait for it to be over.